The Beneris Conflict
by The Outlander
Summary: A tale set 2203 years before the rise of the Galactic Empire. A Padawan walks the grey line between light and dark, while he and his Master have to solve a racial conflict on the remote planet of Beneris.
1. Chapter 1

UPDATED!!

A Long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Star Wars

3700 years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, the galaxy is in perfect harmony. Both the Republic and the Sith Empire flourish. But where the Republic is convincing systems to join them, the Sith Empire conquers, overthrowing them to rule with an iron fist.

The Jedi Order is strong and multitudinous, but so are the Sith. The limitations of the Jedi Order are not always a match for the brute and unmerciful tactics of the Sith, whose quest for galactic domination never stops.

With not only interplanetary tensions rising to a high level, but also numerous tensions between several political groups on one planet, an ex-Sith Marauder, Jaxxon Dorma, is working on his integration into the Jedi Order, with the help of Jedi Weaponmaster Jenson Daego.

**Chapter One: The Briefing**

A Republican vessel is approaching Coruscant. On board, are a Master and his relatively new apprentice. The freighter, that goes by the name of The Fortuitous Eagle, is attracting attention from a Coruscantian Harbormaster. Inside the cockpit, Jenson Daego receives a hologram.

"Incoming vessel, we have you on our monitors. Please state your name and purpose for coming to Coruscant".

Master Daego replied with a smile on his face: "Hey, hello, it's Master Jenson Daego here. Me and my Padawan just got back from our mission on Tatooine. We would like to dock near the Jedi Temple to inform the High Jedi Council of our endeavours."

"Understood. Welcome back back, Master Daego. Please dock at Docking Bay 23-A near the Jedi Temple. A Padawan has been sent to escort you to the Jedi Council. Coruscant Harbour out."

"Thanks", Master Daego replied, but the hologram had already gone. He looked to his side. There, he saw his Apprentice. Jaxxon Dorma was a young, athletic human. He had short, brown hair that stood lightly up, and he had the traditional Padawan tail and pigtail, which lay on his shoulder. He had his arms folder over his belly. He still wore his old, black robes, from which he apparently couldn't part, just like he couldn't part from his old lightsaber. He saw the boy's blue eyes staring at the planet down below them. He felt that the kid was still very troubled and confused.

"You look a bit tense, Jaxxon. Are you nervous?"

Tense was kind of a eufemism for how Jaxxon felt. He had only been this nervous the last time he set foot in the Jedi Temple.

"Yes, Master, I'm afraid I am. I don't think I have to explain why..."

Master Daego gratted the back of his head while flying towards the Docking Bay. "There's no need to be nervous, Jaxxon. You're a full member of the Jedi Order and all the padawans, knights and masters are most grateful you're with us."

"They never gave me that impression, though, master. Some of them looked at me like they'd look at ronto crap on the sole of their freshly polished boots", Jaxxon told Master Daego.

"Well, you can't blame them I guess, but you have to give these things time, my friend. Here we are", he said as he landed the freighter. "Looks like it's Zorn they sent to collect us."

Zorn Quolyg-Naryn was a Padawan under the training of Master Kraenos, current president of the Jedi Council. Zorn was a Zabrak, with an extraordinary talent for flying. He was the younger brother of Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn, also a member of the Jedi Order, who had passed his trials 2 years ago after preventing a terrorist attack on the Jedi Enclave on Emerido. Young Zorn had always lived in the shadow of his supremely talented brother, although he easily was twice the pilot Zaeyn was, but was not to be underestimated himself.

Master Daego and Jaxxon Dorma stepped out of their vessel. "Hello, Zorn, it's lovely to see you!", Master Daego said.

"Thanks, Master, I'm also happy you're back here on Coruscant." Then, he looked at Jaxxon and he greeted him with a small nod, his eyes forming to small narrow slits. It was the unfriendly meeting that Jaxxon had anticipated, but the Padawan felt even more uncomfortable than when he was still in the freighter.

"So, Zorn", Master Daego said, "I understand you're here to escort us to the High Jedi Council's Chamber?"

Zorn looked away from Jaxxon and suddenly became his old hearty self. "Yes, Master Daego, that's correct. Best not keep them waiting I say. Shall we go?"

"Lead the way", Master Daego replied with a smile.

Zorn turned around, and the eyes of Master Daego and Jaxxon met. Daego gave his Padawan a friendly tap on the shoulder and followed the Zabrak. Jaxxon did the same.

After about 20 minutes, the three men arrived at the Jedi Temple. They took the elevator upstairs and arrived at the Jedi Council's Chamber.

A guard announced the Master and Apprentice. Zorn stayed at the door, his task was finished.

"Jedi Weaponmaster Jenson Daego and Padawan Jaxxon Dorma, here to speak with the members of the High Jedi Council".

Both men walked in.

"Ah, Master Daego, what a pleasure it is to see you again", Master Kraenos said. Tell me, how did your mission go?"

"Very well, Master Kraenos, it wasn't easy but we were able to evacuate the threatened villages and we undoubtedly prevented a true massacre. But what I do not understand is, Master, why were we called back? Our mission was not complete. We were told to stop the rancor attacks on the villages and find out why they happened in the first place. We did not yet arrive to the second part."

"We have called you here, Master Daego", another Jedi Council member said, namely Triss Kae, a female Ortolan, "because we need you and your Padawan for another mission. Zaeyn will deal with the rest of the Rancor attacks."

"Indeed", Master Kraenos continued. "We have a very important mission for you, but it must be discussed in private, not in the presence of your Padawan."

"I shall remove myself, then, Master", Jaxxon said with a bow. He turned on his heel and left the Council Chamber.

"How is your Padawan?", Master Kraenos asked when Jaxxon had left the room.

"Is that why you needed him to leave? You just could have asked him..."

"No, we want to ask you, because you are an objective bystander. So, how did he do?"

"During our mission? Master, he behaved like a true Jedi. He saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. I saw him saving children from the paws of rampaging rancors. I saw him climbing them and killing them without a trace of fear or emotion. I believe he has truly stepped into the light."

"Do you?", Master Kraenos said.

"I do, Master."

"Unfortunately", another Jedi Master said, namely Beca Ahas, a male Jenet, "a lot of the Jedi Knights, Padawans and even some Masters aren't ready to accept him. He has committed too many crimes in his illustrious past. Zaeyn, for example, will never forgive Jaxxon and he will never forget what he did to him and his family. Nor will Zorn, I believe."

"We must give him time to prove himself, master. I believe Jaxxon is an invaluable asset if we want to win our ever-raging war against the Sith. He will be useful, and he will follow the Jedi Code. If he had wanted to stab us in the back, he had already done so. During our mission, I didn't feel the slightest thing that pointed towards dark intentions. We can trust him."

"Very well then, Daego, if you say so", Master Kraenos said. "Now, concerning this new mission we have in store for you..."

Jaxxon stood outside the Council's Chamber. He leaned with his back against a wall, when he heard someone coming. Jaxxon looked who it was and saw Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn, Zorn's elder brother, approaching. Zaeyn said to the receptionist: "Excuse me, I have a meeting with the Jedi Council scheduled."

"Yes, indeed. They're just informing Master Daego about his new mission."

"Master Daego, eh", Zaeyn said. "So that must mean..." Zaeyn looked around and saw Jaxxon. "Well, well, well..."

Zaeyn came towards the Padawan. When he stood next to Jaxxon, he almost looked as big as a Wookiee. Jaxxon was a very small boy. Zaeyn was huge, even for a Zabrak, and had a massively broad upper body. Jaxxon barely reached his breast. The Zabrak had longer headspikes than was common among the Zabrak people, and he was one of the few Zabraks in the galaxy, along with his brother Zorn, to have no head and body tattoos, since they were both Jedi from their birth and never learned the customs of their own people. All in all, Zaeyn was a very imposing and intimidating being.

"Jaxxon Dorma. What are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for my Master. And you?"

"That's none of your business. Why are you waiting for him? Shouldn't you be with him?"

"They asked me to speak with my Master in private."

"I see. You do realize why, I hope?"

"I have my suspicions."

Zaeyn grinned. "They still don't trust you. Heh. Not that they should. I still don't trust you either. And I never will."

"Why not?", Jaxxon asked.

"That's the dumbest question I've ever heard, Dorma. Once a Sith, always a Sith. You have no business here. Your Master should have killed you when he had the chance!" Zaeyn's voice loudened and he began to draw the attention of some of the other Knights in the area. Jaxxon was upset about Zaeyn's comment.

"Why do you say things like that? I regret my former actions, Zaeyn, and I'm sorry they can't be undone. But what happened, happened. I'd be grateful if we could just let the past behind us and start over again."

"Hmpf! That's not going to happen, Dorma, and you better know it! I will be watching you closely. And if you begin to slip back, I'll gladly be the one to stick a lightsaber through your treacherous gut!"

At that moment, the Council's Chamber's doors opened. Master Daego came out. He saw Zaeyn standing next to his apprentice and walked towards them.

"Ah, Zaeyn", he said. "Good to see you." He stuck out his hand, which Zaeyn shook. "The Council asked me to let you in."

"Thanks, Master Daego, I'll see you around."

He gave Jaxxon one last look full of contempt and left.

"So, what were you guys talking about?", Daego asked.

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, tell me. You must tell me everything."

"Well, he didn't quite like my presence here, and he told me some very...

disturbing things."

"Like what?"

"Wel, that you were a fool to let me live, for one. And that if I'd ever began to slip back, he'd be the one to kill me."

"Did he really?"

Jaxxon nodded, and Master Daego sighed.

"Zaeyn should weigh his words more carefully. I do not want him speaking to you like that ever again. I will speak to him about this the next time I see him."

"Please, Master, it's not that big a deal. He's entitled to distrust me."

"No, he isn't Jaxxon. You're as much a part of the Jedi Council as him, me or Master Kraenos. Bottom line."

A silence fell between the two Jedi.

"Let's go to a place where I can inform you about our mission."

Jaxxon and his master arrived at a map room. Master Daego activated the map screen and it zoomed in on a planet that looked green and blue on one side, and grey and brown on the other.

"Beneris", Jaxxon said. "Is that where we're heading?"

"Correct", Master Daego replied. "But first of all: what do you know about Beneris?"

Jaxxon thought about that for a while. Then, he slowly began: "I've... Never visited Beneris before, but I have read about the planet... I know that it's controlled by 2 seperate bureaus: that of the Mared species and that of the native Shelee. But I don't remember having read anything about tensions between two parties. Despite their different approaches, they have always lived for two voices, at least for as far as I can remember..."

"Not quite, actually. The Mared and Shalee have a troubled history. And now there's yet another problem stirring", Master Daego continued. "It seems the Shelee aren't content with the amount of power they control on the planet itself. As you may or may not know, ever since the Shelee-emanicipation some 60 years ago, they have established themselves as a real separate government on Beneris, and have been growing enourmously, economically speaking, and they still do. The reason for this is simple: the Shelee bring in the cash on Beneris, and that's exactly the reason why they want more power as well. The main people behind this are 2 Shelee: Zeborah and Mopaka. Some 3000 years ago, the situation on Beneris was quite the other way round. The Mareds came to Beneris, as non-native species, and basically took over from the Shelee. I think you can compare the situation of the Shelee in that time with that of the Jawas and Sand People on Tatooine, with humans being Mareds."

"Humans never did any harm to Jawas. Nor to Sand People. Well, the Republic never did."

"True, Jaxxon, but they never did any good for them either, and in some cases, humans have really sought to exterminate the native Sand People from Tatooine. I once read a tale about Revan, you know, the Jedi Knight who came back to the light after losing his memory. He had been offered an incredible amount of money by the Czerka Corporation if he would kill a nearby tribe of Sand People. Luckily he managed to solve the conflict without any bloodshed. That's the canonical version of the story at least... But that's another story, let's stick to the point.

So, I told you that the main persons behind the Shelee-emancipation were 2 Shelee, namely Zeborah and Mopaka. They were born some 80 years ago, I even believe they're still alive, as sons of a farmer. When they were still infants, they were taken from their home. Their parents offered too much resistance and were put down."

"Zeborah and Mopaka are brothers?", Jaxxon asked his Master.

"Indeed they are."

"And their parents were put down by the Mareds?"

"Indeed they were. Tragic accident, that. But anyway: Zeborah and Mopaka were sold, for they were captured by a slave-trader even though it was forbidden by the Republic, to a wealthy Mared family. There, they were treated even worse than the Gizka they had to feed. 10 years passed, and Zeborah and Mopaka made a drastic decision: they killed their master and his entire family. It was one of the biggest upsets the planet of Beneris had ever seen. Shelee were thought to be submissive and controllable. But Zeborah and Mopaka weren't. The news of the assassination spread, and without knwoing it, and I'm sure they never had the intention in the beginning, they started an entire revolution. Shelees started to come up for themselves, although their idealism was not favoured by the Republic, because of the actions they undertook. They killed wealthy Mareds, bombed Mared-cities, freed Shelee-slaves by any means necessary. Mopaka and Zeborah had become heroes. Examples to every Shelee on the planet. 'Break away from your chains', that was their slogan. But of course the Republic couldn't stand idly by while the Shelee were killing at will. With a lot of help from the Jedi Council, they managed to cool down the Shelee-Revolution, which has been renamed 'Shelee-Emancipation by some idiots who want to soften up the entire war. But now it seemed that Zeborah and Mopaka, who had been made co-rulers of Beneris as part of the 50-50 distribution of power, were not only brilliant warriors, but also extremely gifted politicians and businessmen. Some 50 years ago, they began to popularize pod-racing. It had been known before of course, but never to this extent. The Shelee, who controlled this entire circuit, made billions and billions of credits, while the Mared population started to struggle under an unfair tax burden caused by restoration after the Shelee-Revolution. Of course, the Shelee had nothing to rebuild. Beneris's economy, as a whole, was boosted enourmously, and the Shelee became rich folk, while the Shelee became poorer and poorer. This has continued up until now."

"But Master", Jaxxon replied, "what is our precise role in this, then?"

"I'll tell you, but let me finish", the Weaponmaster said, with some wrinkles of reflection carved into his forehead. "The Mareds don't exactly agree with the Shelee proposal to hand some of their power and authorities over, as you can imagine. Mainly because the money that the Shelee earn, is dirty. It comes from forged pod- and swoop races mainly, but also a lot from bribes, drug traffic, smuggling, blackmailing and just plain extortion really. The Mareds of this generation have become a lot more gentle than their forefathers. They try not to rule with an iron fist, but enforce their just laws with appropriate actions. This does not however, mean that the Mared government on Beneris is completely clean. Every politician has blood on his hands, it's what they do for a living. But if there is one people that would benefit the whole of Beneris, concerning the day-to-day government of the planet, it would be the Mareds."

"But I thought you said the Shelee were responsible for Beneris's economic strength?", Jaxxon remarked.

"Yes, true again, but economic strength and welfare aren't synonyms. A lot of people on Beneris are starving because of gang wars, and unfair distribution of the food supplies. But the Shelee, although they have no choice but to acknowledge the fact, don't care. Gangs are good for them because they bring in money, especially through bribes and their excessive spending on new and more weapons. And whatever food the Shelee do not give to the less provided, they can sell for a hundred times more to other planets, like Coruscant for example, whose industry and city life make it as good as impossible to grow edible food."

"I understand. But what do they expect us to do, then?"

"Well, as I have said the heat in the debate between the Mared government and the Shelee government is rising to a very high temperature. The Jedi Council would like us to go over to Beneris and prevent conflicts, and if possible find a solution. We have to make sure there are no escalations of violence, or any sort of rebellism or whatever you can come up with. Last thing they want is some sort of Mared-emancipation this time..."

"I see", Jaxxon said. "When are we leaving?"

Master Daego laughed sympathetically and said: "Not today, I'm afraid, we only just arrived. I have some more things to take care of. We'll leave tomorrow, so we're just in time for the vote."

"Vote?"

"Yes, vote. Oh, I forgot to tell you, that's right. There's going to be a vote. The people of Beneris are going to vote whether the Shelee should get more power, or whether it should remain 50-50. We have to make sure everything goes smoothly and fairly. Especially the last one."

Jaxxon looked at the Map screen, which was showing images of Beneris in its full glory. Poverty-stricken Mareds, next to the decadent lifestyles of rich Shelee who drenched their lives in gambling on races. Jaxxon sighed. "I hope the Mareds win the vote", he said. "Last thing they need is to be oppressed even more."

"Well, that's not for us to decide. Remember, a Jedi is impartial, he has to hide his emotions. If you act in favour of the Mareds, the Shelee will use that as an excuse to start making complaints. Besides, don't make the mistake of thinking that the Mareds are the victims here. The injustices they have done to the Shelee should not be forgiven so easily, if you ask me." Master Daego took a deep breath. "We have to be very careful, Jaxxon. The slightest error of either one of us could result into another Benerissian Civil War. That's why I'm urging you: be careful!"

Jaxxon frowned. "I don't understand."

"What?", Master Daego asked his Padawan.

"Zaeyn said the Council doesn't trust me. Then why do they send me on such an important mission, albeit with you to guide me..."

Jaxxon's master smiled. "Did Zaeyn tell you that the Council doesn't trust you? They do, my boy, they do. And if they shouldn't, they trust me enough to make up for it." Master Daego stood up from the chair he sat on during his explanation and started deactivating the map screen. Jaxxon was staring at the ground. Master Daego turned around and asked his pupil: "What do you think of Zaeyn, by the way?"

"Zaeyn? Well, I don't really know him to be honest. But I think he's..."

"Let me tell you what I think", Master Daego interrupted. "Zaeyn is a great Jedi Knight. He can fight unlike any other Jedi or Sith I have ever seen, including myself. He's courageous, wise and witty, but... well, arrogant. Extremely arrogant. Even when he was a mere apprentice, he was trying to boss some of the elder Knights, like me at the time and even Masters around. He was always the best of his group, and always did he get the highest grades from no matter which Master. He was devoted and followed the rules very, very strictly. If you want one man watching your back during an open battle, it's him. But his arrogance has made him... Not quite so popular. Even his own brother, Zorn, is starting to become annoyed by him. But come, let me show you your quarters."

Master Daego and Jaxxon left the Map Room and took an elevator down.

"Zaeyn is incredibly strong in the Force.", Master Daego continued. "So strong, that he considers himself to be above mere training. His natural affinity with the Force always gave him an extra edge and he never had to do much to be very successful on his missions. He has become so good with a lightsaber, that he never wants to do any practice fights again. He told me once that lightsaber fighting became 'boring' because he 'always won'. He's not open to learning, and he underestimates everybody. That's going to become his downfall one day..."

"Do you mean you fear he's going to become a Sith?", Jaxxon asked, intrigued by his Master's detailed opinion about the man that disliked him so much.

"A Sith? Oh no, least of all Zaeyn. He loves the Jedi Code and he follows it very stricly, like every other rule. But we're here, come with me."

The elevator's doors finally opened, and Jaxxon saw a long corridor with a lot of metal doors. His Master walked towards one of them and stood still.

"Here's your room, Jaxxon. Number 675. It's traditional that Padawans spend their nights in the Jedi Temple. You'll be sharing this room with Zorn, ironically enough. But I don't think he's here."

Master Daego opened the door with one simple flick of a switch, only to find some furniture and bags... But no Irodonian Padawan. "Just as I thought... Well, make yourself comfortable, buddy. If you want to eat something, you can go to the dining hall, if you want to read, you can go to the library, you can intiate some holo-fights in the training room if you want. Or you can just catch up some lost sleep. Whatever you like. I'm going to settle some affairs of mine..." And his Master turned around and left Jaxxon alone. The Padawan looked around the room. He saw two beds, one closet, a small wash basin, some footlockers, some empty candy wraps and some bags that Zorn had thrown on the ground without care. He saw the Zabrak's spare robes hanging in the closet, and Jaxxon wanted to unpack his own things, only to realize that the only things he possessed were his black robes and his red lightsaber. Jaxxon sat on the bed that wasn't slept on, nor didn't have any pillows with holes in them, and relaxed a bit... Soon, he fell asleep. And dreamt...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Jaxxon's Dream**

Darth Dorma was staring into space. He was on the bridge of one of the Sith Flagships he commanded, namely "The Crusader".

"My Lord, we are approaching Korriban.", one of the captains said.

"I know, fool, I'm not blind. Do you think I cannot spot an entire planet while I'm looking straight at it?", Darth Dorma replied, with fire in his voice.

"No, My Lord. Please forgive my stupidity."

"I can't use Ronto-produce like you. Next time you think of me as an imbecile, I'm going to gut you like a Firaxan Shark, do you understand me?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

"Erm, there was one other thing."

Darth Dorma sighed. "Let's hear it, then."

"There was a holo-message for you, from Lord Genocid."

"Genocid? That Mandalorian bugger? Very well, then. Please send it through."

The face of Darth Genocid appeared on the hologram projector. He was a male Mandalorian, one of the oly known Mandalorians in the history of the universe to be Force-sensitive. He had a vigorous black beard, dark eyes, middle-length hair and deep, dark eyes. All of that contrasted with his skin, which was very pale and thorugh which blue veins could be seen, especially in the upper throat-area. He wore robes as black as a galaxy without stars and his lightsaber, which had an extremely long and thick hilt, was swinging on his belt.

"Ah, my dear Lord Genocid. What can I do for you?"

"Save me the antics, Dorma. I can see you're approaching Korriban. I just wanted to tell you that your promotion will start as soon as you land."

"What? I don't like surprises like these, Genocid, and you know that!"

"Our Master arranged it, I didn't have anything to do with it. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be promoted to begin with..."

"Well, let's be grateful that it isn't up to you, then. Why the rush all of a sudden?"

"He didn't tell me, Dorma. He just told me that he had an important mission for you. By the way, did you do what you were sent to do?"

"Absolutely. Their rebellion was crushed, Genocid. Their resistance was insignificant. It was like stepping on a new-born Gizka. I killed every single member of their pathetic rebellion and publicly and personally executed the leaders."

"Were there any Jedi involved?"

"No, they acted independently. Not that it would've mattered. No mere Jedi can stand against a Disciple of the Dark Side!"

"That's good to hear, I'll report it to our Master. Remember, the ceremony begins the moment you land, so be prepared."

"You're not planning to kill me, are you, Genocid?", Dorma asked suspiciously.

"Not yet, Dorma. And even if it were, I'd be more subtle than this. But that day will come, rest assured."

"Heh. I'd love to see you try."

"Whatever. Signing off."

The hologram disappeared and Darth Dorma reflected upon what he was told. His promotion was moved forward, because his master had an important mission in store for him. What could that possibly be? Assassinate someone? Genocid perhaps? After all, he had become extremely powerful over the last few weeks. Of course, Dorma knew that he had to kill Genocid one day, just like he had to kill his own master, if he ever wanted to take the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith. But he found it strange that that day had come so early. Or perhaps he was mistaken and it had nothing to do with killing a fellow Sith. Perhaps there was another rebellion on one of the Sith planets, but that wasn't a reason to accelerate his promotion. Darth Jannays, his favoured Sith-Lady, could easily take out any rebel alliance in the galaxy. But then what was the reason...

"Captain!", he yelled.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Prepare to land as soon as possible. Head for the capital."

"Why, My Lord? I thought we had to go just outside of Dreshdae to pick up new recruits?"

Dorma turned at the Captain and raised a hand. The officer grabbed his throat and wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Darth Dorma moved his arm, and the Captain began to ascend.

"I warned you, Captain.", he said with a calm, ice-cold voice. "You've irritated me far enough. If you can't do what you're told, you're not a useful tool. Tools that aren't useful... Go to the refuse dump."

Dorma closed his fist, and the head of the Captain turned all purple. His pupil disappeared into his eye sockets, his tongue popped out of his mouth and his arms loosened. Darth Dorma made one simple movement with his hand and the Captain flew over 50 metres and landed near the elevators.

"Get the corpse of that idiot out of here. Lieutenant Paty!"

"Yes, My Lord?" An orange Twi'Lek appeared from behind one of the big, blue screens on the Bridge.

"You're Captain Paty now. Your first order is to prepare the landing as soon as possible and land near the capital city."

"Certainly, Lord Dorma." The Twi'Lek bowed, turned around and walked away to start making preparations.

" Oh, and Captain...", Darth Dorma called after him.

The new Captain turned around, hoping that it wasn't something bad that was going to happen."

"I propose you learn from the mistakes of your predecessor. If you question my orders, only once, then you'll suffer the same fate. Understood?"

"Yes, My Lord, I understand."

"You may go, then."

"Thank you, My Lord", and with one last bow he continued his way.

The ship landed just outside of Korriban's capital. Darth Dorma stood at the Exit Ramp of the Crusader. It lowered, and what he saw then surpassed his wildest dreams. Tens of thousands of Sith troopers stood there, wating for him. They had their blasters shouldered, and were standing in rows so straight that you could have planted seeds between them. The exit ramp hit the ground, and he heard a loud and firm voice shout: "All hail Lord Dorma, the greatest of the Sith Marauders!"

Darth Dorma was ecstatic. Sith Marauder. He was no longer a simple Dark Jedi, but a fully-pledged Sith now. He took one step forward, and the, perhaps 35,000 Sith troopers, kneeled as one. Jaxxon had never felt so powerful before. He marched down the exit ramp and kept looking at the end of the row. Perhaps some 100 metres further, sat his Master, Darth Morlan, accompanied by Darth Genocid and Darth Jannays. Behind them stood the other Dark Jedi who were stationed on Korriban. Everything before Dorma's eyes was shimmering. The armour of blackened steel from the Sith-troopers reflected heavily in the burning sun. Even the long, grey hairs of Darth Morlan were blinding because of the reflection. Jaxxon closed his eyes, and he could feel all the Dark Energy flowing through him. He felt the Dark Side like never before. He kept on walking and sensed that he had nearly arrived before his Master. He stopped and opened his eyes. Darth Morlan, a tall, skinny human with long, grey hair and lacklustre eyes, rose. Jaxxon kneeled before him.

"Darth Dorma", Morlan said with a hollow tone in his voice. It was quite shrieky and not at all pleasant to hear. But it was a voice that commanded respect and submission. A voice that had led hundreds of thousands to war and a voice that had made opponents shiver. "You have proven yourself to be worthy of the title of Sith Marauder. You have slain Jedi that have already killed a lot of Sith. You have given in to anger, hate, passion and fury. A lightsaber-duelist like you there is not. You seek power above everything else and you are extremely strong in the Force. While giving in to your hate and contempt, you have tried to strike me down. This, is the ultimate test for anyone who wants to become a true Dark Lord. I grant you know the title of Sith Marauder. You will bring the Dark Side of the Force to the arthest reaches of the galaxy, and together, we shall destroy the Republic along with itd pathetic Jedi Order. All hail Darth Dorma, Sith Marauder!!"

The Dark Jedi behind Morlan kneeled as well. Only Genocid, Jannays and Morlan stood on their feet. Jaxxon raised as well. He turned around and he saw the Sith Troopers applauding. The sound of it was deaphening. Dorma spread his arms, and...

At that moment, Jaxxon woke up with a start. His heart was pounding, he was sweating heavily and he thought about what he had dreamt.

He had dreamt about himself, that he knew for certain. It was not very long ago, perhaps 10 months... It was his promotion to Sith Marauder. But why had he dreamt of that? Why specifically of that?

Jaxxon tried to concentrate, but he couldn't. He heard 2 voices arguing outside of his bedchamber door. He stopped thinking to listen, and he recognized the voices of the 2 Zabrak Jedi, Zaeyn and Zorn.

"Stop trying to rule my life, Zaeyn. I can take care of myself, I'm not a child anymore".

"I just want to do what's best for you. And therefore you have to do as I tell you to."

"But..."

"No, there is no 'but'. It's very simple. You're not going to socialize with him, you're not going to become friendly with him, you're not going to tell him about yourself and least of all are you going to tell him about me. Got that?"

"Why do you hate him that much, anyway, Zaeyn?"

"Hate? I don't hate him. Hate is an emotion, fed upon by the weak, who don't know how to draw their power from a true source of strength. No, I don't hate him. I just dislike him."

"But why, Zaeyn?"

"Are you becoming mental, or what? Don't you remember what he did to us. What he did to our family. He ripped us apart, that's what he did. "

"But Master Daego said he isn't like that anymore at all."

"Master Daego said that, hmm? Why are you always going on about Master Daego? You're Master Kraenos' Padawan, and still everything you say or do has been influenced by Master Daego."

"He's a great Jedi."

"Yes, but he isn't a member of the Jedi Council, let alone the Head of it. He can bring you much further up the ranks than Daego ever can."

"Master Daego to youé, Zorn said, a little mad.

"Whatever. I just want you to remember what I said. Okay?"

Zorn sighed very long. Then, he finally whispered: "...Okay..."

"Thanks, little brother."

"And now I'm off to bed. Good luck on Tatooine."

"Thanks. Take care."

Jaxxon heard the massive body of Zaeyn bump against a much smaller one, and he realized they hugged each other. Then, he heard heavy footsteps leading away from the front door, which meant that Zorn was now standing alone outside. Jaxxon heard the door open, and quickly closed his eyes to give the impression that he was sleeping. Zorn walked into the room, and pressed a button on the room's terminal to close the door after aving opened it from the outside. He went to sit on the bed, and took off his shoes and shirt. Then, Jaxxon felt how the young Zabrak took his lightsaber, which had a Green Focusing Crystal in it. He laid it on a table next to his bed. This is something that surprised Jaxxon very much. First of all because he himself never ever would lay his lightsaber so far away from him while sleeping, and secondly because Zorn was supposed not to trust him. Leaving your only significant weapon on a table for anyone to grab is the last thing Jaxxon expected. But maybe Zorn's opinion about him wasn't as bad as he had thought firsthand. Then, Jaxxon felt how his room-mate began to meditate. Sitting crosslegged on his bed, he didn't move for about 20 minutes.

Then, Jaxxon suddenly heard his voice, very unexpectedly: "I know you're awake, and I know you're observing me."

Jaxxon opened his eyes and sat up straight. "Yeah. Sorry about that." He looked at Zorn, who turned his eyes from the ground towards him.

"No problem. If I would be in your position, I'd do the same." Zorn got up and went to sit on his bed.

"If you were awake all the time, then you also must have heard my conversation with Zaeyn."

"Yes, I did, sorry", confessed Jaxxon.

"Ach, well, it's not your fault. I just want to ask you one thing, though."

"Ask away", Jaxxon said.

"Did you really kill our sister?"

"Your sister? Of al the Jedi I've killed, I only remember one female Zabrak. Zaerdra was her name, I believe."

"Yes, that's her. Zaerdra Quolyg-Naryn, Zaeyn's twin sister."

"Was she? Well, that explains a lot."

"Yes, it does, I guess? But don't worry about me, Jaxxon. I'm willing to give you a second chance."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a Jedi. Everybody deserves a second chance. And also because Maser Daego believes in you. That alone is reason enough to trust you with my life."

"Do you hold so much admiration for my Master?", Jaxxon asked Zorn.

"I do. I believe he's the single-greatest Jedi in the universe at the moment. He's got all the good qualities of a Jedi and lacks all the bad ones. He makes things happen how they're supposed to happen, and when he does something, it's always perfected. "

"Would you rather be his Padawan than Master Kraenos'?

"I'm not unhappy about being his Padawan, don't get me wrong", Zorn said with a faint smile. "It's just that I, for some reason, don't look up to him as I look up to Master Daego. Perhaps because they have other qualities..." Zorn paused for a while. "But tomorrow will be a difficult day, for both you and me. I should get some sleep."

"What are you going to do tomorrow?", Jaxxon asked.

"My brother would say it's none of your business. But I say that I'm going to fly him to Tatooine, so he doesn't have to take an official ship. It's also less expensive. Then, I have to fly back to Coruscant and speak to my Master about my trials."

"Your trials, eh? You think you'll be a Knight soon?"

"I don't know. It's just a title anyway. Whether I'm an Apprentice, a Padawan, a Knight or Master, I'm a Jedi. And that's what really matters. Good night."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Discussing a dream and Departure for Beneris**

When Jaxxon woke up, Zorn had already left the room. He saw that the Zabrak had taken most of his belongings with him. Only some spare clothes and an empty bag remained. Jaxxon sat up straight and tried to clear is head. But the scenes of the dream kept creeping back into his mind. It felt like his skull was a hand that tried to prevent sand from slipping through. Time and time again, he saw how he killed the captain, basked in the dark side powers, how he had felt that lust for power again and how he stood before his old Master, a Sith Marauder.

Those days were over now, but he still didn't want to be confronted with them. It was al still too fresh. It only seemed yesterday that he abandoned the Sith, though in reality it had been a little while longer. He had to discuss this with his Master as soon as possible.

Jaxxon stood up, and grabbed his lightsaber out of the bed. He hung it at his belt, after having put his black robes on, and then he put on his boots.

The only thing that hadn't changed about Jaxxon since his turn-around was his outfit. He still wore the same robes that he had seen in the dream, and he remembered that he was indeed also wearing them that day. And the days before. And after. Suddenly, he heard the intercom in the room beep. He pressed on the receive button, and a small hologram of his master popped up.

"Hey, Jaxxon, how are you doing?", he asked.

"Not too well, Master", Jaxxon said.

"How come?", Master Daego said, with a worried undertone in his voice.

"I can't really explain it like this. I'd like to see you and talk about it in person. It's really important, I think."

"Okay. Have you eaten yet? I presume not, seeing you're still in your room."

"Er... No, no, I haven't eaten yet."

"Good. Come to 'Nosem Bekatis'. That's a small cantina in the neighbourhood of the Jedi Temple. The food's delicious and we can talk freely there."

"Oh. Okay, I'll be there in half an hour."

"Make it 15, Jaxxon, we don't have much time to lose. See you then."

Master Daego's head disppeared and Jaxxon quickly looked up the cantina where they would meet. When he he had found it, he saw that he didn't have much time left, so he used the Force to accelerate his movements. He ran as fast as he could without bumping into everybody, which was very tricky because the streets of Coruscant are always very crowded, and he arrived right on time.

Jaxxon stepped through the door and the smell of chewed spice, juma juice, deathsticks and burnt meat sharply penetrated his nostrils. He found it strange to find his master in such a place. But indeed, there he sat, even though he was harder to recognize without wearing his traditional Jedi Robes: on a small, round table, he was talking to a young Twi'lek girl that wasn't even Jaxxon's age yet. Then, Master Daego turned his head, as if he had felt Jaxxon's presence. He saw his apprentice, and beckoned him with his hand. He was in a good mood. Jaxxon could tell just by looking at him. Whenever he was, the far ends of his lips curled up slightly. The young Twi'lek went away.

"Jaxxon", said Master Daego, accompying his word with a slight nod and a friendly smile as a manner of greeting.

"Master", said Jaxxon, who sat down at the same table. "Who was this Twi'lek girl?"

"Polly, you mean? Oh, noone, just a girl that I seem to meet every time I come here. You could say we're both habitués."

"Funny, I couldn't see you coming to a place like this. It seems so... tasteless and vulgar." And indeed, the place was. A small Bith band was playing on a small stage barely big enough to keep the four musicians from falling off. Lots of aliens, most of them which had suffered severe deformations because of nasty injuries, kept throwing bits of food and other stuff at them. The side of the bar was filled with truculent Trandoshans, Rodians and even a Wookiee, who was undoubtedly an outcast.

"I might be a Jedi, but that doesn't make my life worth more than that of a common man in the street, Jaxxon. It's not because I can feel the Force better than they can that I have to feel myself better than them. Besides, I like coming here. The food's a lot better than you'd expect, and the atmosphere is always electrifying. Sitting here gives me the feeling that no matter how much catastrophe the Sith cause, there are always places in the galaxy that will never change. Places like these, where the common rabble gathers, unaffected by the politics and warfare of things that are far out of their reach."

"And then you go back to the Jedi Temple."

"Back to the real world", Master Daego added with a faint smile. Now, what do you want to eat? I'll buy you something."

"What do you recommend?"

"The Trandoshan beefpie is extremely good, but you do need a discerning palate to fully appreciate this piece of culinary art", Master Daego said. "It's what I eat most of the time."

"Fine, I'll have one of those, then."

Master Daego held back a Gran waiter that just passed, and said: "Two of the usual Trandoshan stuff, pal. One for me, and one for my mate here."

"Do they know you're a Jedi, Master?", Jaxxon asked after the waiter had left.

"I've never told them, and I do not intend to. I suspect they know, though. Even though I never wear my Jedi Robes here, I'd be surprised if someone hasn't yet noticed my lightsabers", Master Daego said, patting on his two blue lightsabers which Master Daego kept as hidden as possible, under his shirt and belt.

"But anyway", the Jedi Master continued", you said you wanted to speak to me about something important?"

"Yes, I do. I had a strange dream last night."

"I see. Was it a vision?"

"Sort of, but not really."

"Was it a vision of the future?"

"No, Master, unfortunately not."

"Of the past, then, I take it. Your... Troubled past, or your recent past?"

"It dreamt about my promotion to..."

Jaxxon kept silent, because the waiter brought their pies. Jaxxon had to confess they smelled delightful.

"Please, do go on", Master Daego said, while cutting his pie.

"Well, I dreamt about my promotion to Sith Marauder. It felt very disturbing. I felt all those dark side energies again. All that obsession for power and death. Glory and greatness; it all came back to me."

Master Daego looked at Jaxxon, they looked at the piece of pie on his fork. He ate it, and chewed. He was obviously thinking. He swallowed his bite.

"Well, Jaxxon, to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure whether this is a bad thing. I think you can learn from it."

"Learn from it, Master? I thought you'd say that it's dangerous, because these feelings might manifestate themselves within me again."

"The chances of that happening, are very small indeed. And that's no the only thing around here, that's very small indeed. My pie was almost twice as big yesterday! Anyway, I think, you should train yourself to shut the specific feelings you felt in that dream out. Recognize these feelings, but do not acknowledge them. When you start feeling these inside you again, you'll find it easier to keep them from gaining influence over you."

Jaxxon slowly nodded, and then took a bite of the Trandoshan Pie. It tasted very strange.

"What's in this pie, Master?"

"Trandoshans, of course, why do you think it's called Trandoshan beefpie?"

Jaxxon immediately spit his pie back into his plate.

"What?!"

"Relax, I was only kidding", Master Daego said, laughing. "I really don't know, it's a secret recipe, the barkeeper won't give it to me."

"Can't you use the Force to persuade him? It's not a crime to ask for a recipe."

"No, there's no need for that. I never cook anyway, so it really doesn't matter."

One of the Bith that had been playing on the stage came asking for money. Jaxxon grabbed in his pockets, and gave the musician 10 credits. The Bith bowed deeply before him, and walked away.

"That's very generous of you. Normally, he gets maybe 5 or 6 credits a day", Master Daego said.

"Really? Oh, well, I can't use my credits anyway. Got nothing, or noone to spend them on."

"Well, I guess that's as good a reason as any", Master Daego smiled. "But Jaxxon... If you have any more of those dreams, I want you to meditate on them. Train yourself to do what I just said. And then tell me how it went."

"Very well, Master", Jaxxon said.

"And now finish your pie, you hardly touched it!"

"I'm afraid my palate is not discerning enough, as you expressed so beautifully, to fully enjoy this culinary piece of art, Master."

"Come now, Jedi also have to eat. Eat it, you'll thank me later. It's a long way to Beneris, you know."

"Are we leaving today?"

"Yes. The Eagle is ready to go, and we've got full clearance from the Jedi Order. So, nothing is preventing our departure. Except the amount of food on your plate."

"Okay, okay, I get the hint."

Jaxxon took another bite. The more he ate, the tastier it became. And by the time he finished, he was sad to have eaten it all.

When they arrived on the landing platform, Jaxxon recognized two other familiar faces. Zorn and his elder brother Zaeyn were also there. He only saw them from a distance though, and he didn't get the chance to speak to them. Not that Zaeyn would've wanted to speak to him, but he wanted to wish Zorn a prosperous journey.

Master Daego stepped aboard the Fortuitous Eagle, and took place in the cockpit. So did Jaxxon.

"We will arrive there in one piece, I take it?", Jaxxon asked.

"Oh, certainly. Nothing to worry about. The Mared will be more than happy to see us coming. The Shelee perhaps not, but they won't risk their entire campaign for global dominance just to undertake some sort of act of vengeance against the Republic. Remember, they hold the Republic and the Order in particular responsible for their past misery. Beneris has always been an independent system. They still blame the Republic for not changing the Mared oppression all those years ago."

"Then why does the Republic want to help the oppressed Mared now?", Jaxxon asked.

"Because if the Mared win the vote, Beneris will join the Republic. This will however seriously reduce the Shelee's grip over Beneris."

"So we actually do have a lot to fear for."

"We have nothing to fear for, Jaxxon. At least, not for the time being."

And the Eagle took off, and departed for Beneris.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: The set-up**

"There it is", Master Daego said as they approached their point of destination. "Beneris. One of the most troubled planets in our galaxy. That I'm aware of at least."

Jaxxon peered at the planet through the window of the cockpit. It wasn't a very big planet, but it looked very strange, even from out of space. One part of it, was filled with the colours of life: the bright green of the grass, the clear blue of the water, the intense brown of the fertile sand... The other part, however, looked deathly. It was gray for the most part, as far as Jaxxon could tell. Dark clouds that formed above the surface barely allowed you to see the ground. That particular half reminded Jaxxon a bit of Korriban, where he used to live and train.

"I suppose there is a welcoming-committee?", Jaxxon inquired.

"Yes, there is, although not a hostile one, for a change", the Jedi Weaponmaster replied. "I have agreed to meet Ts'lukis, the Mared ambassador and leader of the political opposition, in the Mared Capital Fuksis. We will fly him to the Shelee capital, which recently has been named official capital of Beneris. We need to make sure he is well protected. If he is harmed, or killed, or if the Shelee try to deceive the Mared, in any way whatsoever, the consequences will be very grave indeed."

"I still don't really understand how this vote is going to work", Jaxxon asked himself out loud.

"Well, it's complicated, but also very simple. Tomorrow, there'll be a global vote. But then why do we need to get the ambassador to Sheleepolis, you might ask yourself? Well, the entire parliament, both Mared and Shelee, will vote. The result of their 'elections', so to speak, will determine the official outcome of the vote for 50 percent. The other 50, is in hands of the people."

"But then won't the Shelee win this vote with a crushing victory?", Jaxxon asked his Master, not really persuaded about the meaningfulness of the elections.

"No, not per se, and that's why the Shelee have a reason to be afraid of losing. You see, the entire population of Beneris counts 5 times as much Mareds as it counts Shelee. The Shelee will win the vote in the parliament, but they will need every vote they can get, concerning the other 50 percent."

"I hate politics", Jaxxon muttered.

Master Daego chuckled. "Me too", he said in reply. "But politics is the way of things, and there's no escaping it whatsoever. Both parties know what they want, and they know what their adversaries want. Unfortunately, both parties consider the other ones to be antagonists in every meaning of the word. They litterally don't grant them, even though they live on the same planet, an inch."

Jaxxon kept silent, and Master Daego entered the planet's atmosphere, and flew towards the agreed landing site.

"Remember", the Master spoke to his Padawan, "always preserve your serenity, inner peace and harmony."

"Yes, Master."

"May the Force be with you", he said, while landing the Eagle and lowering the exit ramp afterwards.

"May the Force be with you", Jaxxon returned, as he stood up from his seat.

Both Jedi exited the Eagle, and came face to face with the Mared ambassador. Jaxxon's first impression of a Mared was that of a Rodian. Their heads had almost exactly the same shape. The big difference was that they didn't have a pursed mouth. Instead, they had a very wide mouth with lips as thin as a silk thread. The head was bald. Whether this was a genetic given or a Mared tradition, Jaxxon did not know. Their skin was brown, and looked very smooth and soft. The eyes were quite big, and looked like those of a human. The pupils were very small and almost seemed to drown in the white of the eye. Their average body length was that of a small human adult. Or that of a very big human child.

"Ah, Master Daego", the Mared ambassador spoke in perfect Galactic Basic as the Jedi stood before him. "It is an honour to welcome you to Beneris. And you, young Padawan", he said to Jaxxon, "you are of course also welcome. I hope you will learn much here."

The Mared ambassador, whose name was Ts'lukis, seemed very polite and not at all worried about the problems that might be ahead. Jaxxon felt a bit frustrated by the alien's naïvity, but didn't let it show.

"Thank you for the warm welcome, ambassador Ts'lukis", Master Daego said, while shaking the hand of the ambassador. "Let us hope that our presence here will keep things in line as much as possible."

"Do you fear the Shelee might actually try something?", Ts'lukis said, while guiding Master Daego to a small taxi-cab with his long arm. Jaxxon stared a bit at the ambassador's fingers. They had 7 fingers at one hand, with very long, and sharp nails. The hands were attached to very long arms, and Jaxxon suspected that the arms were divided into three mutual parts, that seemed very flexible.

Master Daego entered the little vehicle, along with Jaxxon and the ambassador.

"Well, I won't lie to you, mister ambassador. I foresee trouble. I've felt it ever since I landed here."

"And you, young Padawan?", the ambassador asked Jaxxon. Jaxxon was a bit surprised that he had just been asked to give his opinion. Normally the Jedi Masters were supposed to give their opinion, and Padawans were supposed to listen, observe and learn.

"Well", Jaxxon said, "I too have a bad feeling about this. I think there's more to this than meets the eye."

"Like what?", the ambassador inquired.

"Well", Jaxxon continued, "I sense an odd disturbance in the Force here. One that seems familiar to me, but I can't really place it."

"Hmph. Never count on a Jedi to lift your spirits", the ambassador said, and both Master Daego and Jaxxon laughed.

"I'm sorry, mister ambassador, but we do not want to shroud you in a cloud of unconcern."

"Oh, never mind, I value your advice."

"So, what will be the exact procedure tomorrow?", Master Daego asked the ambassador.

"Well, tonight the two of you will be staying with us in Fuksis. Tomorrow at dawn, we'll take the first ship to Sheleepolis.Ugh, Sheleepolis. What a dreadful name... ". Jaxxon chuckled. "Once we're there", the ambassador continued, "we'll of course vote in parliament. Then, we'll await the result of the parliament vote, and the result of the people's vote. The final results will only be in the day after tomorrow, though."

Master Daego seemed a bit lost in thought. He was leaning back, and had placed his index finger over his lips, while his other fingers supported his head.

"What are you thinking about, Master?", Jaxxon curiously asked.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing", the Jedi replied. "Nothing important."

"You were not thinking about the mission", Jaxxon said. For some reason, he could feel his Master's thoughts and feelings. He always had had a strong talent for reading people, but not to this extent. It almost felt as if he and his Master were united. As one. And he could see his Master's thoughts flashing before his eyes. He could see a young Twi'lek girl dancing before him. He knew this girl. He had seen her in the cantina. Polly, that was her name.

"You were thinking about Polly", Jaxxon murmured.

"How do you know?", Master Daego said, completely appaled. But Jaxxon didn't answer, he concentrated further on reading his Master's thoughts.

Polly was dancing in the cantina. The same cantina where Jaxxon and Master Daego had eaten their rather peculiar breakfast. A hand grabbed the young Twi'lek. It was a Gamorrean's hand. The pig ripper the girl's bra open. Lots of people were laughing. Polly resisted, but the Gamorrean went further, and clearly showed sexual intent. Polly cried for help, but the bystanders just laughed, whistled and applauded. The Gamorrean rudely turned the Twi'lek girl around, and shoved her against the wall. Then... Blue flashes. The Gamorrean was slashed into shreds. His limbs fell on the ground. Jaxxon could clearly hear two lightsabers getting deactivated, and the blue colour disappeared. Then, he saw a whole new setting. The young Twi'lek girl was naked and kissed him on the lips...

Jaxxon's body started, and it seemed like he had awoken from a daydream. He saw the ambassador looking at him, with his big, white eyes. He looked at him like he just saw a ghost.

"The pupils in your eyes", he began... "They disappeared...", and he pointed an extremely long index-finger at Jaxxon.

"What happened?", Master Daego asked. "What did you do? You were inside my head, I felt it. How did you do that? What did you see?"

"I saw... You, Master. I saw you." And suddenly Jaxxon knew what his Master had meant with 'some affairs of mine.' Obviously he had been doing what Jaxxon just saw.

"What... What was I doing?" Master Daego seemed almost afraid, when he asked.

"You... First you saved Polly, and afterwards..."

Master Daego sighed. "So you know."

"I guess so", Jaxxon confessed.

"Know what?", the ambassador interrupted. He had watched the whole scene with a fascinated interest.

"Tell me, Jaxxon", Master Daego said, completely ignoring the ambassador, "how did you get inside my head?"

"I honestly have no idea", Jaxxon truthfully said. "It.. I... I just concentrated on what you were thinking, and I saw it, right in front of me, as if I were seeing it through my very eyes. This has only happened once before, but I don't like to think about it too much."

"That is... Odd. To say the least. I know of only a couple of people in the history of the Jedi or Sith Order who were able to read thoughts. Darth Traya, for example. And the legendary Jedi Exile, after Traya had taught it to her. But never to the extent that you just described..."

"How was this at all possible, then?", Jaxxon asked his Master.

"I am afraid I do not have the answer to that question. But I do know that you have to be very careful with this, my Padawan. I shall think about this. And meditate upon it as soon as I have a few moments to spare. But for now, let us focus on the task at hand. And stay out of my head, if you do not mind. No pun intended", the Jedi Weaponmaster said with a faint smile.

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry."

"Well, we're nearly there", the ambassador said. Jaxxon had almost forgotten he was with them. The ambassador had tried to follow their conversation, but figured that it was all Jedi talk, and that he couldn't even comprehend it if they explained it to them anyway.

The taxi landed on a small landing platform, next to a huge building. The ambassador and the 2 Jedi stepped out of the vehicle, and it flew away.

"Here we are", the ambassador said. "The grandest hotel in all of Fuksis. You shall be staying here for the night. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"We'll be allright", Master Daego said. "Just take us to our rooms."

Darth Genocid was sitting in his room. He grinned. Dorma and Daego had just arrived on Beneris. He had felt it through the Force. Everything was going according to plan.

He rose from his chair, and watched at the holo-images on display, showing the details of both the Mared and Shelee species. Both were so weak. So pathetic. He had theblood of the Mandalorian species running through this thick veins. Ever since he was born, he was raised as a Mandalorian. He had learned to walk, while holding a vibrosword. He had shot annoying insects with a blaster. Honour through battle was the most desirable thing he could ever achieve. But even before Darth Morlan took him away from his family, he had always longed for more than honour. He wanted power. He had always felt the strength of his Mandalorian blood. He felt it, as his heart pumped it into his arteries. He felt the strength, as it spread to every single vein in his body. He desired strength and power more than anything else, and when the Sith took him in, he didn't resist the temptation and strength of the Dark Side of the Force. No, instead he had embraced everything Darth Morlan taught him. From the very beginning. He had been Morlan's most prized pupil. Until Dorma came along.

But Dorma was no longer a threat to him. He had turned his back on the Sith, and betrayed them. But Genocid didn't care. In fact, he was happy about it. The human Jaxxon Dorma remained, but only a shell of what once was Darth Dorma kept existing. His power had increased dramatically, ever since walking the path of light. And for that, Darth Genocid was happy. Because now he was unrivalled.

He had been working on a plan on how to eliminate Dorma, of course. He knew that the Jedi Order had difficulties with accepting him. And if he kept on toying with the young man's mind long enough, he could perhaps break him. Make him go mad. But if that didn't work, he had other tricks up his sleeve. More physical ones.

Darth Genocid grinned again, and he received a holo-message. He used the Force to activate the receive button a couple of yards away.

"Master, I'm going to Dantooine, just as you ordered." It was a woman who spoke. She was a human, and Darth Genocid's apprentice. She had long, black hair that she had tied in a very loose knot. She was a half-bred, with a brown skin colour. She seemed pretty, were it not for the corruption of he Dark Side that had already left its marks on her face...

"Very well, Darth Jannays", Genocid said to his apprentice. "Crush their rebellion, and go back to Korriban to await further instructions."

"Yes, my Master", and her face-hologram disappeared into thin air.

Genocid didn't worry too much about the minor rebellion on Dantooine. Jannays would take care of it. In a very... effective way. She was very sadistic, Jannays, undoubtedly one of the reasons he liked her so much. But for now, Genocid had other matters at hand. The mind-games he was playing with the young Padawan Jaxxon Dorma. Now, what did he have in store for him...? Ah, yes, Genocid knew quite the thing. He laughed.

Jaxxon was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was rethinking the events of the passed day. He had witnessed a fine example of Jedi hypocrisy today, coming from his Master. Up until that moment, he had always looked up to Master Daego as the ultimate Jedi. Powerful, wise, and living according to the Jedi Code. But it seemed that even he had his flaws, especially concupiscence. Jaxxon felt a bit disappointed, because he himself had always mirrored himself to his Master. And how could he ever be the Jedi he should be if he didn't have a proper example? Jaxxon took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

_Darth Dorma was in the Sith Council's chambers, along with Darth Morlan, Darth Genocid and Darth Jannays. Darth Morlan was sitting in the biggest chair. It was a huge, black bucket seat, that almost resembled a throne. It was the reserved chair for the Dark Lord of the Sith. Around him were three other seats, that were used by three particular confidants. His apprentice: Darth Dorma, his most likely successor: Darth Genocid, and a special enforcer: Darth Jannays._

"_We lost the Mozah system", Darth Morlan said in his cold, inempathic voice. _

"_Damn it", Darth Genocid said furiously as he slammed his fist on the side of his chair. "I always knew Darth Chindzee was incompetent."_

"_Chindzee fought galantly", Morlan said. "It's not him who has to take theblame"._

"_Take the blame?", Dorma said. "He's probably already dead anyway, unless I am very, very mistaken"_

"_True", Morlan said to his apprentice. "Darth Chindzee is no more. Killed by that cursed Master Daego."_

"_Daego? Again?", Jannays said. "He's led the Republic forces to victory on Mozah, killed Chindzee, and all of that after he sabotaged our slave trade on Malastare. As long as he's still breathing, we are at risk." _

"_Oh come now", Genocid said. "Their entire campaign doesn't rest on the shoulders of one stupid Weaponmaster."_

"_No, Jannays makes a valid point", Morlan said. "Daego has become a threat to us. And he needs to go."_

"_To go... To the land of the dead?", Dorma asked his Master._

"_Indeed", the Sith Lord said._

"_Well, my Master, if you want me to...", Genocid began, but he got cut off by Morlan._

"_No!", he said. "Darth Dorma will take care of this."_

"_But he's basically impossible to track down", Dorma said._

"_Then you'll have to find somebody who knows where he is. And extract the information out of him. Or her," the Dark Lord added with an evil grin._

_Darth Dorma knew exactly what he had to do._

_Aboard The Hare, a Republic Flagship, Maela Ulchnar's double-bladed lightsaber fell to the ground, after Dorma had viciously kicked it out of her hand. He deactivated his own lightsaber, and hung it to his belt. He saw that Maela reached for her lightsaber, but Dorma summoned it towards him and threw it away as far as he could. He lifted the young female Jedi Knight off her feet using the Force, and slammed her with all his power against the nearest wall. _

"_Where is he?", he said as calm as he could._

"_I don't know", the Jedi said._

"_Where is he?", Dorma repeated. _

"_I really have no idea", she said. "Look, you don't have to do this. I sense the conflict within you. Let me help you, don't toil down this path of havoc and destruction."_

"_Hmph", Dorma said. "You speak like you know anything about it. The power, the desire, the raw emotions. I've been warned against your type, trying to convince Dark Jedi to turn away from our path. But you're wasting your time, lovely. I'm not a weakling. Now, I'll ask you one last time without making you suffer. Where is he?"_

_Maela didn't reply, but instead she braced herself for the pain._

"_Fine then", Dorma said. And he unleashed an incredibly powerful Force Storm upon her. Maela screamed her lungs out. The pain she felt was indescribable. Her insides seemed to be on fire, and it felt like boiling oil was poured all over her skin. Then, the pain stopped, and she was able to breath normally again._

"_Not so pleasant, is it?", was the retorical question Dorma posed. "Now, I can keep going on like this and you'll tell me what I want to know, or I can continue to break you and you'll tell me what I want to know. The result is the same, the procedure somewhat different. Don't try to fool me. You do know where he is, you were his Padawan and remain his confidante to this day. So, I repeat my question. Where...is...Daego?"_

"_Torture me as much as you want, Dorma, I ain't telling you nothing. You hear me? Nothing!"_

_Although Dorma admired the young Jedi's fighting spirit, he showed no mercy. He sent another storm of electricity through her body, to which she screamed even louder than before. Dorma stopped the shockings, and he created a Death Field around Maela, sucking her life-energies out of her spirit._

"_If you don't give in to torture", he said, "then I will break your mind."_

_And he choked Maela with the Force. Her screams stopped. Her eyes started to roll back in its sockets. And Dorma concentrated. He tried to break into the young woman's mind. He searched, and searched. And he found it!_

Jaxxon awakened, and let out an immense bawl. His heart was raging underneath his carcass, and his mattress was soaked in sweat. Entire body was trembling, and when he wanted to step out of bed, his foot shaked so hard that he couldn't get a decent grip on the ground.

He just had had another nightmare. It was even more horrendous than his previous dream. What had his master said about these dreams? Use them to your advantage. Recognize the feelings, and learn to shut them out. The only thing was that he didn't really feel anything during his dream. The dark emotions he felt during his previous phantasmagoria were much more intense. Now he had seemed almost...emotionless. Then how could he recognize the taint?

Jaxxon sighed. His transition from the dark side to the light side had seemed much more sudden. Now he realized that ever since he had gotten the assignment to kill Master Daego, he had started to climb out of the dark hole of treachery, deceit, passion and rashness the Sith had dug for him. Jaxxon knew this had to mean something. What it meant, he could not say. But he did know that it was important.

The next morning, he waited alongside his Master for the arrival of the ambassador. Master Daego told him they'd be taking the ambassador to Sheleepolis personally, with the Fortuitous Eagle. That'd be considerable more comfortable, and safer as well. One of the Mared servants that the ambassador trusted enough, was given the job to deliver the freighter to the front of the hotel, and he had done so.

When the ambassador finally arrived, he got a preach from Master Daego, but the ambassador waved away his concern. "We have more than enough time", he reassured the Jedi Master.

And so, the trio flew to Sheleepolis. The flight took about twenty minutes, and when Jaxxon first looked at Sheleepolis, he thought he was right back on Coruscant. Towering buildings that reached into the clouds. Hundreds of thousands of Shelee in the streets... But Jaxxon realised that the latter probably had something to do with the ongoing vote.

When they landed on the landing pad, a couple of Shelee soldiers were waiting for them. Jaxxon thought the Shelee looked kind of creepy. First of all, they were very large. They easily stood over 6 foot tall. Their shoulders were broad and the shape of their body was that of a triangle. Their waists were very thin, and looked almost fragile. They had long, thin legs and their arms were so long that the hands reached their knees. The hands looked very human, but what was without a shadow of a doubt the most fearsome about the Shelee, was their visage, and their mouth in particular. The eyes were thin slits, through which red pupils peered at the world. They didn't have a nose, instead just two tiny holes above their terrifying mouth. The mouth itself, was completely round and formed an almost perfect circle. But instead of two lips, they had four of them. Each lip covered about a quarter of the mouth's cavity, and when they breathed out, the lips slightly protruded.

"Welcome, mister ambassador", one of the Shelee soldiers spoke in the Shelee-language, an odd mixture of coughing and hissing, "to Sheleepolis. We are here to escort you to the planetary parliament."

"But of course!", the ambassador replied with a broad smile in the Shelee-language. "You can take us right away, then. Have they started with the vote yet?"

"I don't know, sir", was the soldier's simple reply.

Jaxxon didn't speak Shelee, so Master Daego acted as a translator for a while, and he taught Jaxxon some phrases that might be useful if they got separated or into trouble, because not every Shelee spoke or understood Galactic Basic.

When they arrived at the parliament, the soldiers left the ambassador and the two Jedi. They were greeted by another Mared, however, who seemed to know the ambassador.

"Ts'luksis! How wonderful to see you here!", the unknown Mared said.

"Ah, Ms'Drety! Like wise, my friend, likewise. May I introduce you to my two protectors: Jedi Weaponmaster Jenson Daego and his Padawan Jaxxon Dorma? Gents, this is Ms'Drety one of the few Mared representatives in the Beneris Parliament."

"Pleased to meet you", Master Daego said, and he shook Ms'Drety's hand. Jaxxon did the same, and thought it felt really strange to have his entire hand and wrist being shook by those strange long fingers.

"Well, let's get voting then, shall we?", the ambassador said. And he and his friend entered the parliament. Master Daego and Jaxxon followed in their footsteps. The place was crawling with Shelee, and the odd Mared sometimes showed up. All of the Mared MP's seemed to know each other.

"Why do we only need to protect the ambassador?", Jaxxon asked his Master. "He's not the only Mared political figure."

"No, that's true, but he is the most important Mared on the planet", the Jedi replied. "He's the leader of the Mared, and every other being of his species looks at him like they look at a King. That's why it would be disastrous if he got killed. The entire political effort of the Mared would crumble without him."

"It's strange that the entire fate of a species depends on the breathing of one man", Jaxxon stated.

"Very", Master Daego agreed.

The voters had to line up in long queues. When it was their turn, they had to opt for one of the two choices: '_I hereby agree with the Act of Shelee Ascendance, stating that the Shelee species gain at least 75 of political control over the planet of Beneris. YES/_NO'. When they had made their choice, obviously everybody had already made their mind up, they had to tick it off on a touchscreen. This was the procedure in the entire country.

After almost 2 hours of queueing, it was the ambassador's turn. When he had voted, they left the parliament, and they went to sit on a bench, along with Ms'Drety.

"Well, that went fairly smoothly", Jaxxon remarked.

"Yes, most surprisingly", Master Daego agreed. "But the day is far from over."

"Still, I didn't sense any political corruption, Master. Nowhere."

"No, me neither. It seemes the Shelee want to do this by the book. I guess the only thing we can do now, is wait."

"Do you think there'll be riots, Master?"

"No, I do not think so. If there are any, there is enough militia around here to deal with that."

"Shelee-militia, Master. I'm afraid they'll pick sides if there are any problems."

"And allow an open war to take place in their grand City? Very unlikely. The same counts for the other cities on Beneris. The Shelee desire power too much, they will want things to run as smoothly as possible. Smoothly of course means: peace and prosperity for all the Shelee, and the Mared too, if their purse allows it."

"Well, you've had a change of heart", the ambassador said suddenly. "Back in the freighter, you said you feared problems."

"I know, but something in the Force tells me that there will be no conflicts whatsoever. It's... strange, I can't describe it. It's what my midi-chlorians are telling me."

"Well, I guess thta's good news, then", Jaxxon said with a smile.

"Indeed it is. But still, we shouldn't be out here in the open. You never know if a sudden terrorist pops up. Come on."

"Where are we staying for the night?", Jaxxon asked.

"We'll be staying in the Mared embassy. All the Mared in Sheleepolis have to gather there. Regulations, my boy."

When they arrived in he embassy, Jaxxon felt almost like he was back in Fuksis. Hundreds of Mared were walking around. The outside was well guarded by Shelee soldiers, but inside there were no more protectors, save for the two Jedi. There was a courtyard, where the ambassador was speaking to some political friends. Jaxxon grabbed this opportunity to talk about what had happened that night.

"Master", he began...

"Another dream?", Master Daego said. "Yeah, I thought so. The look on your face this morning said enough. I didn't have to read your mind to be able to tell what happened."

"Yes, I indeed had another nightmare. Do you remember I told you that I had broken into someone's mind before, but that I didn't like to think about it too much? Well, I saw it happen in my dream."

"Oh really? What happened?"

"Well, as you know, back when I was... a Sith. They gave me the assignment to kill you, Master. But you were impossible to track. So I tracked Maela instead."

"Yeah, I have to admit that was a smart move. Maela always lacked stealth..."

"Yes. So, I forced her to tell me your location, becuse she obviously knew where you were at the time. But torturing her pained me too much, so I tried to break into her mind. And I succeeded. I saw you, and your exact location at the time, which allowed me to eventually find you."

"And we all know what happened after that..."

"I really wonder why I'm dreaming of these exact events", Jaxxon said. "Out of everything I've done. And I tried to follow your counsel, but I couldn't identify my dark emotions anymore."

"That does not surprise me", Master Daego said. "During our first confrontation, I sensed that the Dark Side within you had already begun to fade. That's why I knew you were ready for salvation."

Jaxxon let out a single "Oh", and kept silent.

Evening fell sooner, rather than later. The ambassador went to bed quite early, after heavy discussing and speculating. Master Daego installed himself in a room next to the ambassador, for protection. Jaxxon slept a couple of rooms further.

There he lay on his bed. Again. Almost the entire embassy was sleeping, save for some patrolling guards on the ground floor. Afraid to close his eyes. Afraid of the scenes that would transpire before his eyes. Afraid of what might come. Afraid of losing control. But he fell asleep eventually. And it was a comfortable sleep. Just the pitch-black of unconsciousness. No dark events.

Suddenly, Jaxxon woke up. He felt calm, and he wondered why he had woken up so suddenly. Then, he heard a loud detonation, that made the entire buidling tremble. It was then, that he realized the horrible truth. The embassy was under attack!

_Editor's note: Reviews would be much appreciated. I'd like to know if the story's interesting, if the characters are well portrayed, things like that. I know there has been lots of talking and not a lot fo action up until know, but that's bound to change, believe me!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05: The Quolyg-Naryn Brethren**

"Ready when you are," Zorn said, with as bright a smile as he could possibly conjure.

"Let's go, then," Zaeyn replied, and they both boarded the freighter, which was appropriately called 'the Zany Zabrak'. Something Zaeyn found hilarious.

"Let's see," Zorn said when he had dropped himself into the pilot's seat. "I never flew your freighter before, you know, but I should be able to manage."

"Your reputation as the Republic's best pilot wouldn't be really deserved if you can't even lift your own brother's freighter off the ground," Zaeyn remarked.

Even though it was the undeniable truth, Zorn was irritated by the comment.

"Yeah, whatever," the young Padawan said, "just tell me where on Tatooine I have to land, and keep the 'I'm the best at everything' part to yourself, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Zaeyn said, "no need to feel assaulted." And Zaeyn laid his feet on the dashboard in front of him. "Wake me when we're there, okay baby brother?"

Zorn grumbled, and took off. When they had left the planet's atmosphere, he jumped to hyperspace.

After some hours of flying, they approached the planet of Tatooine.

"Zaeyn!" Zorn yelled. "We're there!"

Zaeyn woke up with a start. "Hmm? Already?"

"We've been flying for hours, man," Zorn said. "Now, where do you want me to land?"

"Oh," Zaeyn said, while rubbing the sleep out of his big, blue eyes, "there's a small settlement some 70 miles Northwest of Mos Eisley. Land there, that's where Daego and Dorma left."

"It's _Master_ Daego to you," Zorn said, even more irritated than else, while adjusting his course.

"Whatever," Zaeyn said, "it's not as if I'm addressing him at the moment."

"It's a sign of respect. Respect he deserves by the way. He's done more for the Order _and_ the Republic than any other man alive."

"That's what you think," Zaeyn replied with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I totally forgot, of course it is _you_ who is the Republic's ultimate hero. It is _you_ who symbolizes valour, honour and righteousness. Sorry, Zaeyn, I totally forgot."

"Ugh. If you weren't my younger brother I'd have you thrown out of the Order long ago for sarcastic remarks like that."

"Well, bad luck for you, then, because I _am_ your brother."

"Just don't push it," Zaeyn said.

"What, is that some kind of threat?"

"No, it's a warning." And the kind of look Zaeyn gave his little brother after that, made Zorn shut up for the rest of the space-trip.

"There, that'll do," Zaeyn said while pointing at a landing spot, and also breaking the silence between the brethren.

"Look, Zaeyn, about what I said before, I..."

"Don't think about it, Zorn, it's alright. I probably deserved it anyway. I know how much you look up to _Master Daego,_" Zaeyn said, stressing the last two words.

"That's better," Zorn smiled.

"I just think he's too damn naive."

"Here we go again," Zorn sighed.

"You'll see,sooner rather than later, that I'm right about this," Zaeyn continued. "But let's focus on the task at hand for now, shall we? Right there, yes," the massive Iridonian said while Zorn landed the freighter on a flat patch of sandstone.

The two brothers exited the vehicle, and they were approached by a diminutive human, who barely reached Zaeyn's waist. He was astounded by the enormous presence of the Zabrak, who undoubtedly looked extremely scary to someone as small as him. And to those who knew him in person.

"Can we help you?" Zorn asked the little guy.

Feeling much more comfortable talking to an alien he could at least look into the eyes, he replied: "Yes, let me first welcome you to Gran Dura, one of the most prodigious new colonies on Tatooine."

"Thank you very much," Zorn said, adding a small curtsey to his kind words. Zaeyn rolled his eyes.

"And," the unknown man continued, "if you are looking for something, I am the man to ask. I know everything and everyone. If you need work, equipment, employees, anything really, come see me, and I'll see what I can do for _you."_

"That's most kind of you," Zorn said, but I don't think..."

"Actually," Zaeyn interrupted, startling the small man, "I am looking for some information."

"Ah, information," he said. "The most wanted of all goods, but the most dangerous one to trade in. Please, come with me."

And he led Zaeyn and Zorn to the local cantina. It was a sandy dump, with lots of bums, homeless and addicts. The three of them pulled up a greasy chair, and sat themselves down.

"Now," the little fellow continued, "what kind of information are you looking for?"

"This village in general," Zaeyn said, "tell me about it."

"Well, what is there to say? It was founded some 12 years ago, by the Hutt, Lotta the Hutt, who still rules this place. Merchants flocked towards the town for reasons unknown. It was only a couple of years ago we discovered the true meaning behind this. Lotta had incidentally found large moisture quantities under the ground not so far from here. As you know, water is scarce round these parts, and thus extremely valuable. The underground water reserves Lotta had found, quickly made him one of the richest creatures on Tatooine. He used his profits to invest in this settlement, and it's really becoming a city as of late."

"That sounds pretty idyllic," Zaeyn commented, "I heard you have had some troubles lately..."

"Ah, yes, the Rancor attacks. A true shame, that. But, the rancors were stopped. By Jedi! Can you believe that! I saw them with my own eyes. A man in brown robes, with short brown hair, and a young boy, around your age," he added while pointing at Zorn," also with short brown hair, and robes as black as the night. They were fantastic. I even saw their lightsabres! The elder guy had two of them, but the..."

"Yes, yes," Zaeyn said, visibly irritated, "I didn't come all the way to Tatooine to hear about that. Thing is, they left, right?"

"Yes, as sudden as they had arrived. Odd, huh?"

"Well, don't fear old man, because we are here now, and I personally guarantee that there will be no more threat whatsoever," Zaeyn said proudly.

"We?" Zorn said, totally perplexed. "I can't stay, I need to go back tomorrow."

"Oh no, you're staying with me, I can use your help."

"Zaeyn, I can't exceed my mandate, you know that as well as I do."

"Little brother, I already thought about that. Right before we left, I talked to Master Kraenos, he said it was alright."

"Then why didn't he tell me?" Zorn asked, feeling a little excluded. "Or perhaps I don't have the right to know what exactly my mandate is? And why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Don't be so offended, Zorn, I'm doing you a favour. If things go well down here, Master Kraenos might consider you for taking the trials. You should thank me, instead of trying to break me down."

"Wait, so the two of you are actually Jedi?" the little man suddenly interrupted. It were the first words he could bring out ever since he got the message.

"Born and raised," Zaeyn said with a smile. "We're here to find the source of the problem. And you have already done us a great favour. I don't suppose you know anything about rancors do you?"

"Not as such," the man confessed.

"We'll be on our way, then," Zaeyn said, and he stood up. So did Zorn.

"Erm, wait a second," the little man said defiantly, " information is as good a ware as any other. I too can't live off sand, you know."

"What do you want, then? Money?" Zorn asked.

"Yes," was his short and simple reply.

"Give him some credits, Zaeyn, so we can get out of here."

"Erm, credits? I don't have any money with me."

"What? I can't believe it, you didn't even bring money? And what if we had to pay a docking fee, did you never think of that? Or what if you had to make a holo-call if your equipment broke down?"

"Hey, calm down," Zaeyn soothed him.

"That's not fair! You Jedi are all the same!" the little guy suddenly let out. "Selfish, uncaring and stupid. I want money for my services, or I shall call the guards!"

"Hush, little man, we do not need to pay for your information," Zaeyn said, while waving his hand at the tiny human.

"No," he suddenly said. "You don't need to pay me for my information."

"I can't believe you Force Persuaded him not to ask any money," Zorn yelled at his brother as soon as they had left the cantina.

"Come on, what would you rather have? A whole fuss with the local authorities, or a peaceful settlement..."

"The Force can not be used for personal gain, that's a rule, Zaeyn!"

"It's not personal gain, it was an action with the best interests of the mission at heart."

"Oh, I'm not buying that. Even _if_ you had money, which you hadn't because you were completely unprepared, you wouldn't have paid the poor guy either."

"Hey, look, I don't need a lecture from anyone, least of all from you, okay? Now drop it already!"

Zaeyn said this with such a strength in his voice that Zorn kept silent about it.

After a couple of minutes walking in silence, Zorn dared to ask his brother another question.

"Where are we going?"

"To someone who knows something about rancors. I've only seen a rancor once, so I don't know much about them. Information is the key to success, Zorn, always remember that."

"I will," the Padawan said with a short nod. "So do you know anyone who is a rancor-expert?"

"No, but I know where to start. I think this is a good place."

They stopped in front of a building, the biggest Zorn had seen so far on Tatooine.

"Dewback, Ronto and Bantha renting: finest prices, finest services," Zaeyn read off the front. "Must be Jawa's running the place, they have never really mastered the pronunciation of Galactic Basic words. They think that, like in their language, if a word rhymes graphologically, it also does phonetically. Bad mistake, boys."

"What makes you think they are rancor experts?" Zorn wondered.

"Well, you know how all Jawa's are specialists at a certain subject, right? Some specialize in manufacturing, selling or repairing droids. And those that do, know everything about them. I figured since these Jawa's here specialize in renting out creatures, there are no bigger experts on the Tatooinian fauna than them."

"Wait, but how did you know about this place?" Zorn asked, a bit confused by his brother's logic.

"This isn't the first time I've been here, little brother. You remember that little guy talking about the moisture reserves found by Lotta The Hutt? Well, some 6 years ago, someone tried to steal them and eliminate Lotta The Hutt, to take control over Gran Dura."

"Seems more like a job for the local guards, if you ask me."

"Yes, were it not that the one who tried to take this town over goes by the name of Korjen Talf," Zaeyn said with a faint smile.

"Isn't he the crime lord that was banned from Coruscant?" Zorn asked, vaguely remembering the name.

"Yeah, he is," Zaeyn said. "Well, he used to be. I killed him when it came to a fight. Zaerdra was with me, back then. She never forgave me not just arresting him."

"Oh. I see. I never knew that..."

"She wanted to keep you shielded from a lot of things, Zorn. She really cared about you, just like I do. Just not in the same fashion. And it was her compassion for others that got her murdered."

"What... What do you mean?" Zorn said, not really knowing what his brother meant.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Zaeyn said, suddenly wiping a tear-drop out of his eye.

"Zaeyn," Zorn said, who had to look up to see his brother's face, "are you crying?"

"Nah, it's just... I can't stand this sand blowing in my eyes. Let's... Just go in."

"I'm not coming," Zorn said. "I don't understand a thing these Jawa's say anyway, and I wanted to do something. You can fill me in later, okay?" Zorn patted the back of his elder brother and looked at the ground. "If you ever do want to talk about it, big brother, I'll be there. You can tell me everything, I just hope you realize that."

"Yeah, I'll erm... Just see you in an hour or so, then. What are you going to do anyway?"

"Oh, just... Make a holo-call in the Double Z."

"Double Z? Zany Zabrak? I like that. With whom? Not with Dorma, I hope."

"Nah, Jaxxon's off to Beneris, don't worry about that. Besides, you already made it quite clear about how you feel about that. I don't want to taste your wrath again," Zorn said with the beginnings of a grin.

"Well, who's the lucky receiver, then?"

"Maela," Zorn said, with a little voice.

"Maela? Maela Ulchnar? The one Dorma tortured? Boy, you really know which friends to pick, don't you? Have fun..."

And with those words, Zaeyn turned around, bumped his head against the upper doorpost, cursed, and went inside the rental company.

The first thing Zorn did when he boarded the Zany Zabrak, was undress. Of course, he kept his regular clothes on, but he removed his Jedi robes. They were a bit too pompous to wear when being alone. He stroked the little Padawan-tail that grew just below his lowest head spike on the back of his head. He was completely bald ,apart from the Padawan-tail and pigtail, jut like Zaeyn was. They both thought head spikes were enough headgear. Zorn thought male Zabraks with hair looked ridiculous. Luckily for him, he never saw a lot of people that belonged to the Iridonian species to begin with.

He went to sit on the seat meant for sending holo-calls. He just hoped Maela was there...

He dialled the Jedi-temple's code, and soon got contact with one of the operators that monitored the in- and out coming holo-calls .

"Jedi Temple operator here. Please state your name, mission, current location, and the receiver of your holo-message."

"Zorn Quolyg-Naryn, I'm currently on Tatooine with my brother Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn to uncover the mystery behind the rancor attacks that terrorize the locals. I want to make a call with Maela Ulchnar, Jedi Knight."

"One moment please."

The hologram that showed the operator faded, but it soon reappeared again.

"Name, mission and location verified. It's nice to see you, Padawan Quolyg-Naryn. Putting you through to Maela Ulchnar now."

The hologram vanished again, but this time, it was replaced by one of a beautiful young woman. She had long brown hair, that she had laid over her shoulders. She had a skinny posture, and she was the ultimate proof that appearances could be deceiving. She was one of the most skilled lightsabre fighters Zorn knew. She could easily beat him, and they both knew that. Zorn was convinced there were only four Jedi who could possibly match her skill with a blade: Jaxxon, since he had already beaten her before; Master Daego, since she used to be his Padawan before Jaxxon joined them; Master Kraenos, his own master, since he was justifiably the president of the Coruscant High Jedi Council and Zaeyn, his own brother, since almost everybody he knew claimed he was the best lightsabre fighter in the entire galaxy.

She wasn't as good as Zorn at picking locks, opening high security doors, or, flying a ship though. The last was something Zorn absolutely excelled at, since he had the greatest pilot the Republic had to offer as his Master: Master Kraenos.

"Zorn!" Maela shouted from halfway across the galaxy. But Zorn could see and hear her loud and clear, thanks to technology. "How are you, my favourite Zabrak?"

"I'm fine," Zorn replied with a bright smile. "How are things over there?"

"Just the way you left them," she replied. "Kinda boring. But that's the life of a Jedi, I guess."

"Oh, no, that's not true," Zorn said with fake pompousness, and thus trying to imitate his brother. "The Jedi are servants of the Republic, and keepers of peace, order and prosperity in the galaxy." Maela smiled. She knew exactly who Zorn was trying to portray.

"How are you holding out with your brother? I heard from Master Kraenos you actually have to do an entire mission with him."

"Yeah, well, it's the way you expect it to be. Nothing more."

"Still, you could learn a lot from him, I think. Why else would the entire Jedi Council hold him in such high regard?"

"Learn from him? Oh, please. If he ever has a Padawan learner, I give him or her 5 days before falling to the dark side."

"That's not funny, Zorn," Maela said, whose happy mood suddenly changed.

"Okay, so it's not funny. It's the truth, then. Seriously. He's like the worst hypocrite I've ever seen. All he does is preach about keeping to the code, give hints about how to be a good Jedi,... And when you see him doing what he supposedly does best, he screws things over. Learn from him? Rather not, thank you. All I can learn from him, is hypocrisy, disrespect, bitterness, arrogance and incompetence."

"Okay. Well, then, I have news for you. The Jedi Order's biggest fluke, as you'd probably call him, is most probably going to get awarded the title of Jedi Master when he completes his mission successfully."

"Seriously?" Zorn said, completely astounded by the news. "That's bad news, Maela..."

"What? Why?"

"Because then I'd have to call him _Master_ Quolyg-Naryn, I'm sure of it! We just had a discussion about respect regarding the Jedi Masters. Shall I quote myself?"

"Go ahead," Maela smiled.

"It's _Master_ Daego to you,It's a sign of respect. Respect he deserves by the way. He's done more for the Order _and_ the Republic than any other man alive."

"Is that what you said?"

"Word by word," Zorn nodded. "And it's true. You were lucky to have him as your Master, Maela."

"Yes, I was. Everything I've accomplished is thanks to him. But you shouldn't put him on a pedestal like that."

"What? Why not?"

"Because he doesn't want you to. And because he has a lot more flaws than most people think... And he realizes that, I'm sure of it."

"Flaws? Like?" Zorn inquired.

"Hey, pal, I didn't answer your call so I could blacken Master Daego's reputation."

"Sorry. Anyway, I should get going. Zaeyn will probably be finished already with the Jawa's..."

"Wait," Maela said, with her eye brows raised. "What?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're here to find the source of the rancor attacks. Zaeyn isn't actually doing anything, just talking to every single person in the street, asking them questions until their heads start to spin, after which he leaves them totally oblivious about what they actually talked about."

"Sounds fun," Maela grinned.

"Yeah, currently he's interrogating, because that's what he basically does, some Jawa's who have specialized in the Tatooinian fauna."

"That's quite smart, actually," Maela said, visibly impressed.

"Why does everyone keep saying that," Zorn grumpily asked himself.

"Because it is the truth," Maela replied. "Zaeyn is very good at investigating and finding the source of things. He didn't stop that terrorist attack on Emerido by accident or luck, you know... And you may not approve with the way he does things, but he gets the job done, after which the greater good benefits. What's so wrong with that?"

"Look, I can't believe you're actually defending Zaeyn. You, of all Jedi. You, who once called him a pompous, arrogant ass. In front of the High Jedi Council!"

"That was a mistake."

"But it is the truth. Argh, I just can't stand it any longer. It's as if Zaeyn is exempt from punishment and failure..."

"Easy, Zorn. Remember; there is no emotion, ..."

"There is peace, yeah I know. Now I really have to go back."

"Okay. Call me as soon as you're able. And good luck! And..."

"What?"

"Do try to get along better with your big brother."

Zaeyn exited the rental company. He was satisfied. He had learned everything he needed to know. He had once again proven a conviction he had always believed in: knowledge is power. He grinned, and thought back of the conversation. The Jawa were so small they had seen him for a Krayt Dragon upon his entrance. After a lot of talk, he finally managed to calm them down, and persuade them into sharing their knowledge with him. Zaeyn had to go sit on the floor in order for the Jawa's to be able to look him into his eyes. But it had been worth it.

He looked around, scouting for Zorn. Although he doubted he'd already finished his holo-call. He reached out for his little brother through the Force, and felt that he indeed was still in the Double Z. He decided to take a walk to rearrange his thoughts. It was a couple of hours past noon, and he already knew the cause of the rancor attacks, and how to put a definite end to them without any bloodshed. Although the last thing wasn't something Zaeyn was entirely sure of, for it required the cooperation of Lotta The Hutt. And Hutts weren't known for their cooperative nature. More for their will to control everything around them without any pity.

"They'd make good Sith," Zaeyn thought by himself. It was a thought that just passed his mind.

"But I'd make the best one of them all." Zaeyn stopped his steady march, and rethought his last reflection. Why did he think _that_? He honestly didn't know. And he felt ashamed because of it. Did his arrogance really have no boundaries? That he imagined himself to be a Sith just so he could prove himself? Zaeyn shook his head. "It was just a passing thought," he said to himself out loud. "It didn't mean anything..."

He felt his little brother approaching. Apparently he had finished his call. He decided not to go back to the rental company. It was a good test for his brother to find him on instinct and his feelings alone.

"But knowledge of my whereabouts would guarantee absolute certainty," he thought. Knowledge was Zaeyn's source of success. Ignorance meant failure. "That's why you need the Force: to give you knowledge of my whereabouts through instinct and feeling." Zaeyn thought he was on the roll. After creating a couple more philosophical Jedi-theories related to knowledge, he heard his brother shout his name behind him.

"Zaeyn! There you are."

"Good job in finding me," the Jedi Knight said. "I honestly thought it'd take you longer."

"Did you get what you need?" Zorn asked.

"That depends," Zaeyn said, toying around with his brother. He decided to test him a bit more.

"Depends on what? I know you, Zaeyn, everything about you: your stance, the position of your lips and eyeballs in their sockets, the position of your shoulders, the self-assuredness that flows from the way you place your hands on your hips. All those things shout at me: 'I have everything I need to complete this quest'. So, out with it."

Zaeyn smiled. He admired his little brother for this extraordinary talent: the talent of reading a creature like reading a datapad. Of course, he couldn't read people's character traits. Only things like their feelings, their intentions, etcetera. That was the main reason he had some slight doubts about Dorma's bad intentions. But it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Not yet.

"Do you want the full story, or the short one?" Zaeyn asked, hoping his brother would choose the first option.

"Well, seeing your absolute belief that knowledge is power and your exaggerated stress on the word 'full', I think it's fairly obvious what you want me to choose," Zorn said.

"How very sharp-witted of you," Zaeyn remarked. "Very well, then. Here's the thing: rancors are not aggressive by nature."

"Seriously?" Zorn said surprised.

"Seriously," Zaeyn replied. "Most people have this distorted prejudice about them, saying that every rancor is a sadistic monster that has an insatiable blood-lust."

"A bit like how I look at you, then," Zorn intervened.

"Possibly," Zaeyn smiled, trying to stay calm. "The thing is: this is an urban legend. Rancors are gentle creatures by nature. But their brute strength, monstrous looks and their inability to touch another being without killing it, haven't really worked in their favour over the last few milennia."

"But then why do so much criminal organisations use rancors as violent enforcers?" Zorn asked. "Seems to me that's not very 'gentle', as you put it..."

"There you have a point, baby brother. Just know this: rancors bind themselves to the first person they see."

"Isn't that usually their mother, then?"

"Yeah, I thought so too. But rancors are born blind. Their eyes only start working after a week or so. So, if someone manages to grab a baby rancor, which is only possible after you have killed the mother, believe me, it has a very powerful ally. Because rancors are more intelligent than they appear. And they can be trained very well."

"So you're saying that some criminal organisation has trained rancors from birth to attack these people?"

"That's a possibility."

"But you don't really believe it, do you?"

"Not really, no," Zaeyn replied, ashamed about being read again by his little brother.

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't feel right. The only criminal mind I sense around here is that of Lotta The Hutt. And why would he want to attack his own village, that has made him rich and continues to do so until this very day?"

"That's true," Zorn confessed. "Then what do you think?"

"Before we left, I spoke to Master Daego about this. He said the rancors that attacked him and Dorma didn't seem to be trained. His guess, which is also mine, is that they are an independent group of rancors that live in a Tatooinian Dune Sea not far from here."

"So, what's next? You go and kill all the rancors?"

"No, of course not, Zorn! I'm interested in _why_ they attacked in the first place. If you just kill them all, you solve the issue effectively, but you don't deal with it, and guarantee it will never happen again. You can't guarantee such a thing if you don't have knowledge of the source of the problem."

"Ah, of course. Knowledge," Zorn smiled. "And I suppose you possess it?"

"Of course I do, I didn't think you had to ask that."

"It was for conversation's sake, Zaeyn, rest assured. So, what _is _the source?"

"I'm getting there. The Jawa's told me that rancors are gentle, right? They only attack if there is a proper incentive. Like: the invasion of their territory; being attacked; if someone they care about has been hurt;... But the most important incentive: if their food and drinking supplies, because rancors eat and drink like almost every other being in the galaxy, are being exploited and it becomes a threat to their further existence. Now, with what can you combine this?"

"The.. er..." Zorn thought for a while. "The... moisture supplies Lotta found?" he said with much hesitation.

"Absolutely correct," Zaeyn said with a bright smile. "Good thinking. Lotta The Hutt has been exploiting the rancor's water supplies, which has naturally enraged the beasts."

"You seem quite certain," Zorn told his brother.

"Yes, because I _know_ it is correct."

"Then we have to speak to Lotta," Zorn directly said.

"Yes, but you don't just waltz in there. Not if you want to avoid a bloodbath."

"How do we speak to him, then?"

"Make an appointment. With some Force Persuasion I can possibly convince them to see us tomorrow."

"Do it, then! What are you waiting for?"

"Okay, I'll do it. You go back to the Double Z and get some shut-eye for tomorrow. Because that's the day we're going to put an end to this."

"But what if there is another rancor attack during the night?" Zorn asked worriedly.

"I don't think there will. Not for the near future. From what I heard, Dorma severely weakened the rancor's numbers. Little did he know that he was slaughtering the victims of this exploitation."

"Exactly, so don't blame him. You didn't know either when you came here. He and Master Daego just did as the Council asked: stop the rancors, find the source of the problem and deal with it. They did the first part, then they were called back. I'm sure they would've found out as well."

"As quick as we did? Yeah, right. We arrived here about an hour before noon. By noon we already knew everything about this village. A couple of hours later we knew everything about rancors. Now, it's almost evening and we know what to do to put a definitive end to all of this. You and I make a pretty good team, Zorn."

"Probably because we're so different," Zorn quickly said.

"Yes," Zaeyn replied, " but that's why we're so effective. Together, we form the ultimate Jedi, do you realize that? Working with you feels like Zaerdra is back again, it's really pleasant."

"Well, thanks for the compliment," Zorn smiled. "But you should go make an appointment now."

"Of course. Remember, return to the Zany Zabrak and wait for me there."

And with those words, Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn turned around.

The next morning, they stood in front of Lotta's Palace. It was easy to see why it belonged to the richest creature in town. It was by far the largest building to begin with, and apart from the excessive decorations, it was also heavily guarded. Most of them were Rodians, but here and there were some Gamorreans, evil-looking Trandoshans and Twi'leks. They were heavily armed, with vibroswords and two blaster pistols. But it was nothing they couldn't handle should it come to a fight.

The two Rodians at the door looked ferocious to Zorn, but in front of his giant brother, they seemed like two grains of sand. When he told them what their business was, they quickly let them through.

The first impression Zorn had of the palace, was that it was a joyful place, full of merrymaking. There was a Bith band that consisted of about 9 members, and the sound of their song was excellent. Zorn figured they'd be some famous intergalactic celebrities, but as a Jedi, he didn't really have the time nor the permission to be busy with things like that, so he didn't know them. In front of the Bith band, stood some female Twi'lek dancers. Zorn felt a bit aroused, but repressed this feeling about as fast as it had surfaced. All over the place were tables with probably Lotta's minions sitting and drinking at them. All together, it looked like a giant cantina, without the fighting.

"Watch your back," Zaeyn said. "We have to be careful now. Hutts are a lot easier to provoke than rancors. So let me do the talking, they don't like listening to more than one person at the same time."

Zorn just nodded, and his eyes scanned the palace until he found the Hutt. When, he finally did, he vomited in his throat. It was without a doubt the most disgusting creature he had ever seen. It was a Hutt, but he was bigger than most, and his skin was so wrinkled it seemed like he consisted of rings made out of blubber. When they approached him, the stench that came forth from the being burned into Zorn's nostrils. It was extremely unpleasant.

"Ah, ye aer the Jedi," the Hutt said in an odd Huttese dialect that even Zaeyn, who knew every language in Republic space, barely understood.

The Quolyg-Naryn brothers stopped in front of the Hutt.

"Yes, we are, mighty Hutt," Zaeyn said with a small bow. Zorn followed his elder brother's example.

"Wot want ye!?"

"We wish to inform you of something we have discovered," Zaeyn said so politely it startled Zorn.

"As you know, your village has been attacked by rancors lately," Zaeyn continued, but he was interrupted by the giant Hutt.

"Yea, I know dat. Too ovva Jedi awreddy dealt wid dem."

"Yes, but we have discovered why they attacked your village."

"I dun care. They dead now, tanks to ovve Jedi. You I no longer neet."

"With all due respect, there is a great chance they attack again. There is no confirmation that the entire hoard is dead, nor do I believe this would be justified if it was the case."

"Sey what you neetta sey den," the Hutt allowed.

"We know they attacked because their moisture supplies have been taken from them. They have run out of fluid, and its causing a threat to their further existence."

"Wot dat gotta do wimme?"

"Well, their moisture supplies are actually... yours," Zaeyn said, wondering how the Hutt would take it. "You took their water from them. At first, they could find it elsewhere, but now that the other reserves have ran dry, they are without any moisture."

"So wad?"

"So what? That means you have to stop exploiting your reserves! The rancors will fight to their deaths. And you might take them all down, but are mere credits worth the life of an entire village?"

"Moisture reserves mine now! I not gon' givem away to sum biestis," the Hutt seethed with anger.

"Then you doom the entire village. I cannot allow that to happen. Return them to the natural inhabitants of this planet, or we will take proper action."

"Dat a tret?"

"No, it is a warning, we Jedi don't utter threats."

"And we Hutts don' heat warnens from Zabraks," the Hutt responded. "Get out!"

The entire crew of Lotta the Hutt had followed the conversation, and after this last line of their master, they grabbed their blasters, and pointed them at the two Iridonians.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Zaeyn calmly said.

"Zaeyn, perhaps it's best we just leave," Zorn advised. "He's not going to give in, we have to find another way."

"Another way, fine, but I'm not leaving here before he has given us an annulment of his property."

"Den yu die," the Hutt threatened.

"We'll see about that!" Zaeyn shouted. He turned around so fast that nobody even saw it, and with one gigantic Force Wave, he smacked the entire crew of Lotta the Hutt, about 35 to 40 men, against the wall, knocking every single one of them out, and even killing some because of the impact.

"Now, Lotta," Zaeyn addressed the Hutt who was all alone in front of two Jedi, "shall you heed my warning?"

"That went smoothly," Zaeyn commented, as he laid the datapad with the annulment of Lotta's property on a table in the Double Z's cargo hold and sat himself down.

"Smoothly?" Zorn replied. "You smacked about 40 of Lotta's minions against the wall with one flick of your hand, and then you persuaded a Hutt into actually giving up his most profitable possession! It was great!" he added enthusiastically.

"Well, I'm glad to see you actually approve with what I did, for a change," Zaeyn smiled.

"You did a fantastic job, brother. I first thought you were just nosing about and hoping for some kind of violent finish were you could slaughter everyone in your sight."

"Is that how you think of me?" Zaeyn said, who seemed to be truly worried about this comment.

"Ah, well, no, I exaggerated. It's just that... Well, never mind."

"Come on, tell me."

"I thought all of this preaching about knowledge was crap and that you were just wasting valuable time. But you were right. It's important to know everything before taking any action."

"Yeah," Zaeyn said. "But your ability to read people should have warned you that I'm not that kind of person."

"It doesn't work like that," Zorn replied. "But thanks for trying."

"Don't mention it. But, I think this concludes our quest! So, fly us back to Coruscant!"

"No. We have to do one more thing..." Zorn said.

"Look, I really don't think this is a good idea," Zaeyn said when Zorn landed the freighter. They had been flying for hours, scanning the surface of the region until they finally found what they were looking for.

"It's necessary," Zorn insisted.

"Well, if you think so."

"I do."

The two brothers exited the ship and were immediately met by the sweltering heat of the two Tatooinian suns. Zorn's eyes searched his goal, and when he found it, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous.

"How do you plan to communicate with them?" Zaeyn asked.

"Either through speech or through the Force. Either way suits me."

They walked further, and they approached the edge of their goal: the habitat of the pack of rancors that used to live off Lotta's moisture reserves.

"I'll keep my Beast Trick ready for when things go wrong," Zaeyn said. "You can do the talking."

They walked further, and some of the rancors spotted the two Zabraks. They let out loud roars, to acknowledge their presence.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Zaeyn said loudly.

"Will you STOP saying that?" Zorn shouted at him.

Zorn walked a bit further, while Zaeyn followed in his little brother's track. They were slowly being surrounded by beasts that were about 5 times as big as they were. And being bigger than a giant man like Zaeyn meant something.

Then, Zorn finally caught eye of him: the alpha male of the pack. A beast that was huge, even by rancor-standards. Through the Force, Zorn reached out at it. He felt a lot of emotions, but the most dominant one was sorrow. It was filled with it, and Zorn couldn't help but pity the beast.

"So, what now?" Zaeyn said when the alpha male stood in front of them and the other rancors had formed a circle around the duo.

"This rancor has suffered great personal tragedy," Zorn said. "Its wife and sons died of thirst, and its brother was lost when Jaxxon and Master Daego protected the village."

"How do you know that?" Zaeyn asked.

"I'm connected with it through the Force, he's telling me these things. Don't bother me..."

Zorn listened more, as the alpha male talked more, and then he decided to talk back to it.

"We put an end to your misery," the Padawan said through the Force, while also softly whispering it. "Your water supplies are available again. You no longer have to fight, you no longer have to kill, and you no longer have to die of thirst. You can be free again."

The rancor reacted by letting out a deafening roar. But it was not a savage roar, it was an emotional one. It was as if the rancor was singing. And when he finally stopped, he touched Zorn. Of course, Zorn was almost thrown to the ground, but the rancor was as gentle as he possibly could. He grabbed Zorn with his enormous hand, and lifted him effortlessly into the air.

"Zorn!" Zaeyn yelled .

"It's alright, Zaeyn," he replied. "He doesn't mean me any harm. He said he wants to give me something."

Although Zorn was a little bit afraid when the rancor first touched him, he now was surprised by how tender its touch could be. It lifted him up until Zorn had reached its massive, ugly head. Then, it produced something from its other hand. It was a pearl. A shiny, green pearl that was no doubt very valuable and rare. Zorn, and Zaeyn too, could feel the energy flowing from it, and they both knew it was a special item. The rancor offered it to Zorn by stretching out his claw. Zorn took it, and he whispered: "Thank you." Then, he was put back on the ground. The alpha male let out some short, violent noises, and the circle around them formed a line. Zorn looked back at the alpha male, and made a bow. Zaeyn followed once again the example of his younger brother.

The two brothers retreated, not turning their back on the leader of the pack. Each rancor they passed, let out a roar of its own. None of them were the same.

"What are they doing?" Zaeyn softly asked.

"Honouring us," Zorn said.

After a while, they reached the Zany Zabrak.

"Whew, that was quite the adventure," Zorn said after having jumped to hyperspace.

"You can say that again," Zaeyn agreed. "And we both performed extremely well. I shall make sure the Council hears of this."

"Thank you, Zaeyn. Your approval means a lot to me."

"Yes, I know. Me and Zaerdra didn't always look eye to eye, but we learned a lot from each other, and we accepted our own flaws, and those of the other. You are just like her, Zorn. Gentle, caring, intelligent, a talent for reading people,... There's only one big difference: she was an excellent lightsabre-fighter. You aren't. But you are ten times the pilot she was."

"How did she die, exactly? You never told me that..."

"Yes, it's painful to talk about it. I kept running away from it, because it caused too much emotion. It still does. Two years ago, she was sent on a mission to fight slave traders on a Malastarian moon. It were her trials. It was around the time I passed mine too. But what the Council didn't know was that the slavers were directed by the Sith. Zaerdra found out that Dorma was there, serving as a puppeteer, and killing everybody who showed any form of resistance whatsoever. They battled, Zaerdra lost. That's all I know about it. If you want to know the details, ask Dorma."

"Jaxxon remembers her," Zorn said. "He said he regrets what he did. I believe him."

"Maybe he regrets it, but that doesn't mean I forgive him. Not yet."

"What's the use of this grudge, Zaeyn?" the Padawan asked. "You need to learn how to let go."

"Zorn, first of all: you're not my Master. Second of all, I'll let go when Dorma is dead and buried."

"That's harsh, Zaeyn."

"I know," the big Iridonian said. "But he deserves it."

After a couple of hours of flying, they arrived at Coruscant.

"Finally home," Zaeyn commented upon seeing the said of the planetary metropolis.

"It's strange to call this home," Zorn replied. "But I guess it's the closest to it we have."

"You almost sound like you regret your commitment to the Jedi," Zaeyn said, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"No, that's not it. I just keep thinking of how things would be if I never had joined them."

"The Force runs through us, Zorn. We can make a difference as a Jedi. A difference that matters. Live in the present. Not the past, and not the future. And certainly not an imagined present."

"I will, Zaeyn."

A hologram popped up in front of the two Jedi. It was one of a droid that was assigned to monitoring the in- and out coming vessels.

"250 million unemployed, and they give this job to a droid," Zaeyn muttered.

"Incoming vessel, we have you on our monitors," it said. "Please state your name and purpose for coming to Coruscant."

"Zaeyn and Zorn Quolyg-Naryn, we would like to dock near the Jedi Council to inform them of our mission."

"Understood, welcome back Knight and Padawan Quolyg-Naryn. Please dock at Docking Bay 23-A near the Jedi Temple."

"As always," Zorn said," with an annoyed sigh.

"Coruscant Harbour out."

As soon as the freighter approached its landing pad, Zorn noticed something.

"Hey! The Fortuitous Eagle is docked!"

"What?" Zaeyn said and he looked up to see it for himself. It was indeed so. "That means Daego... Master Daego, excuse me, and Dorma are back already. That's odd, the results of the vote aren't due until today."

"Then what happened?" Zorn asked himself, a slight fear taking control of him.

Zorn landed the freighter as quickly as he possibly could, and he and his brother exited. He was surprised to see Maela standing there, waiting for them.

"Maela!" Zaeyn yelled. "Good to see you. Why is the Fortuitous Eagle docked?"

"Master Daego arrived from Beneris about half an hour ago," she said.

"Master Daego? And... Jaxxon?" Zorn asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Zorn," Maela said with a deep sigh, "Jaxxon is... dead."

Next chapter: Find out what happened during the Shelee assault and how Jaxxon came to his unfortunate end.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06: The assault of the Mared embassy**

Jaxxon ran out of his door, after summoning his lightsabre. Apart from some boxer shorts, he didn't have any clothes on. The hallway he was sleeping in, turned into uncontrollable chaos. People, mostly Mared, were running around, some had babies with them. Some cried, not knowing what to do. Some were stiffened by the thought of what could happen. Jaxxon himself, was a bit shocked as well.

"How could we not have foreseen this?" he thought. "Master, where are you?" he thought and searched Master Daego through the Force. He found him a couple of corridors away. He was approaching, but Jaxxon thought it best to put an end to chaos here.

"Everybody, listen to me!" he shouted at the top of his voice, but nobody reacted. Everybody wanted to exit the building as quickly as possible out of fear that it might collapse.

"Stop! Listen to me!" he shouted again, but it was no use. Jaxxon thought of a little trick he had learned some years ago, from Darth Jannays. He was afraid to use it, but he found no other solution. He took a deep breath.

"EVERYBODY LISTEN TO ME!" resounded through the corridor. It was Jaxxon's voice, only made ten times stronger and deeper by the Force. It was a variant of the Force Scream, but instead of using damaging high sonic tones, it were very strong, low tones, guaranteed to attract everybody's attention.

This was also the case now. Everybody stopped, and the chaos calmed down. Everybody looked to see where the voice came from."

"Listen to me," Jaxxon repeated for the fourth time, but this time in his normal human voice. "I do not know if you all understand me, but I do not speak the language of the Mared. It is essential we keep our cool. Likely, the Shelee are attacking us. I am a Jedi, and I shall do everything that lies in my power to keep all of you safe!"

"This last sentence cheered some of the people up. Clearly, they had a lot of trust in the Jedi Order.

"We need to gather in the courtyard. The possibility of the building collapsing is too high not to form a risk. But everything will go smoother when we maintain order. Form a line, and go through the doors. Do not take the elevator, take the stairs. One by one!"

The people in the corridor moved as one, and they followed every order perfectly, having found aspiration and inspiration in the powerful words of the young Jedi.

"Jaxxon!" he heard someone yell behind him. Jaxxon turned around and saw his Master running towards him, with ambassador Ts'Lukis in his trail. The ambassador seemed terribly upset, and the tiny pupils had widened significantly. Jaxxon could sense the fear in the Mared's heart, and pitied the poor man, whose world was crumbling, both literally and proverbial.

"Master, it's unbelievable," Jaxxon said. "We're under attack!"

"Yes, I know," Master Daego said. "Keep calm. We need to get out of here."

"I just gave the people the order to gather in the courtyard. We should go down there as well, and try to keep them safe from any blaster fire."

"We can't do that, Jaxxon," Master Daego said.

"What?" the Padawan reacted surprised. "Why not?"

"We need to get the ambassador out of here, alive if at all possible. That's our main priority."

"So we just leave these people to their fate?"

"Yes," was Master Daego's simple reply.

"I can't believe you're asking me to do this!" Jaxxon shouted at his Master. It was the first time he ever raised his voice against him. He was disappointed by this significant lack of courage and the inability to be responsible for the lives of these people. He felt anger rush through his veins, but he managed to push it back just in time before it could fully manifest itself.

"Look, I understand your concern!" Master Daego shouted back. He calmed down, and continued his explanation. "The man embodies the entire Mared species and their hopes of survival. Can't you see that? If he dies, the entire Mared species dies with him. He is the diplomatic beacon upon which they all lay their hopes. Trust me, if we risk his life, we risk a lot more than a couple of deaths in the courtyard. And besides, I don't think that those who surrender will be harmed."

"Just enslaved," Jaxxon muttered. "But I understand your words, and they make sense to me."

"It is honourable of you to have difficulties letting these people go unprotected. But even Jedi have priorities."

Master Daego was interrupted by another heavy impact that struck the building and made its foundations tremble. The chaos in the hallway returned slowly but surely, and Jaxxon was saddened, but he felt the conflict in Master Daego"s heart as well.

"We have to take him to Coruscant," his Master continued. "From there, the Council can work on a plan to fix all of this, with the ambassador's help. Let's go."

Jaxxon nodded, and realized he was still in his underpants. Not really wanting to make a fool out of himself while saving lives, he summoned his black robes from his room.

"No time to put those on, give them to me, I'll keep them in the pockets of my own robe," Master Daego said. With some hesitation, Jaxxon did as his Master asked.

"Let's go," Master Daego said.

"Make way!" Jaxxon shouted at those at the door, who were trying to get out as fast as they could.

Upon seeing the two Jedi and the ambassador leave, some people got upset and panicked even more than before..

"Don't leave us!" some shouted at them.

"You'll be safe!" Jaxxon replied. He was ashamed of himself, and he understood their anger with him. "Just go to the courtyard and don't resist. We'll find a way!"

The Master, Padawan and ambassador made their way down the crowded staircase as fast as they could. They had almost no elbow-room so they had to push a lot of other Mared out of their path. But the stairs were so overly crowded, that they barely moved an inch. Jaxxon looked in the hole that was formed next to the stairs, who were built in the shape of a spiral.

"We're not making enough progress!" Master Daego shouted at Jaxxon. "You jump down, through the centre and save whoever you can until we get down there. I'll make sure the ambassador remains unharmed!"

Jaxxon didn't doubt a fraction of a second to follow his master's order. He jumped over the rail, and he fell down about 100 metres, but landed safely on his two feet.

Jaxxon activated his lightsabre, and ran out to the courtyard. Everybody who saw him gasped in amazement, and ran towards him, asking for protection. The Mared cried from their big eyes. The salty water dripped onto Jaxxon's naked shoulder, and the sticky sweat of the aliens wetted the Padawan's body. Jaxxon could read the fear from their eyes, and he felt the sorrow. It came at him like rays of golden sun, burning him if it remained focused on him for too long.

"Just stay calm," Jaxxon advised them. "Don't offer too much resistance if they capture you, then you might still live."He knew it was weak advice, but it was better than nothing, and it was what Master Daego had assured him. He left them behind, and he went to the guards who were protecting the gates. He read the panic in their eyes, and their hunched stance made Jaxxon suspect they were in big trouble, next to the fact that he sensed an enormous amount of hostility outside of those gates he had barely ever felt before.

"What's the situation?" he inquired.

"We're hopelessly outnumbered," the Mared guard said. "The Shelee and the Sith have surrounded us, and it's only a matter of minutes before they bust through these gates.

"The Sith?" Jaxxon shouted out loud. "The Sith are helping the Shelee? Damn it!" he cursed, and his heart started beating a whole lot faster. This was very grave indeed. He cursed at himself again for not sensing the Sith's part in this. He of all people, should have recognised the echo's the Sith send forth when having wicked intentions.

"Are there any Dark Jedi?" he asked, although he didn't sense any.

"No," the guard replied, after which a turret shot a big chunk out of the durasteel gates that protected the embassy. The guard was blown away, and ripped into shreds. It didn't take longer than a second, but for Jaxxon it almost happened in slow-motion. He saw the man's torso separated from his body, his head burnt away, and his legs shattered under the energetic impact of the weapon's impact. Jaxxon remained unharmed, thanks to a quick reflex. Some other brave guards stormed towards the gates to stop the Shelee and Sith from getting in, but Jaxxon sensed their, despite their valour, incompetence. He took a quick decision.

"You fortify the gates!" he shouted at the guards. "I'll keep them out for as long as you need." They seemed mighty grateful, and nodded without a second's hesitation.

With one audacious leap, Jaxxon threw himself into the blaster fire. Not a single shot went past him. He spun his lightsabre, deflecting 6 laser shots in one smooth movement. He unleashed a Force Wave upon the nearest group of Shelee, about 25, and they all flew back 10 metres, knocking down another group. A Sith trooper shot a Power Blast at him, which he returned. It hit the Sith trooper on the helmet, and he fell dead to the ground. A whole array of rapid shots was fired at him, but Jaxxon returned them all to sender with a dazzling flurry of his lightsabre, killing at least 32 adversaries in the process.

"How's the gate?" he yelled at the guards behind him, while killing a Shelee trooper with a well-aimed lightsabre-throw and incapacitating a nearby squadron of Sith with another superb Force Wave.

"Can you give us another minute?" they shouted back at him.

"No problem", Jaxxon yelled back, and he spun around, to powerfully hit a blaster bolt back at a Sith trooper. And without having to look, he deflected 4 other shots behind his back. He didn't see it, but Jaxxon was certain they all had eliminated a target.

Now there was something else. A battalion of Sith troopers armed with vibroblades came running at him. Jaxxon focused on the nearest one, and as soon as the Sith raised his blade, he was dead. The Padawan stuck his lightsabre in the trooper's gut, and kicked him back so forcefully he took at least 5 other down. The second trooper hacked at the Padawan, but Jaxxon did a simple sidestep, and slashed his lightsabre through the trooper's torso, after which he force pushed the dead body towards other storming troopers.

"Ready," he heard the guard from behind him yell. "Get back in here!"

Jaxxon sensed the guards were keeping the gate open, but just wide enough for only him to enter. If he didn't get back in quickly, he would certainly die, because even a Dewback couldn't win a fight from 5 billion Gizka. So, he did a back flip and landed just behind the gate, which was closed and shut firm.

"You saved us," the guards said. He saw the gratefulness and admiration coming from their body language, but he didn't feel like he deserved it.

"I bought some time at best," Jaxxon said while shaking his head. "There's too many of them, especially now they seem to have allied themselves with the Sith. I can't believe we didn't sense any form of their involvement in this matter."

"Jaxxon!" he heard someone shout behind him, and he immediately recognized the voice of his Master.

"Master, the gate was destroyed, so I bought them some time."

"Yes, I sensed it. What you did was courageous, but now we need to get the ambassador out of here."

"Pretty hard with the gate being kept shut and a couple million troopers waiting for us outside of these gates. And there's another complication. The Sith have allied themselves with the Shelee."

"What?" Master Daego shouted out in disbelief. "Impossible, I didn't sense them here."

"There are no Dark Jedi, but there are Sith Troopers. Lots of them. And behind every battalion of Sith troopers, there are Dark Jedi, and Sith Lords. Genocid has planned this extremely well. How he avoided any detection of involvement in this, is a complete mystery to me."

"Things become worse by the second. I shall talk to the Council about this! But now, we need to get out of here. Mister ambassador, you know this place like no one else. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Yes," he immediately said, thinking as quickly as he could. "There's a small door that exits to a narrow alley. It's in the kitchen."

"Perfect," Master Daego said, and he grabbed the arm of the ambassador and ran so fast he almost dragged him behind. Jaxxon hesitantly followed them, not comfortable with how much more these people could take.

After having arrived in the kitchen, the ambassador noticed that the door was locked.

"No problem," Master Daego said, and with a flick of his hand, the door smoothly opened like there was no lock at all. "Let's go," the Jedi said.

They ran out of the embassy, finding an empty street. Jaxxon locked the door behind them, to stop other from following them and potentially giving away their location.

"What's next?" the ambassador asked.

"We need to get to the Eagle," Master Daego said. It's the only way off this planet."

"But that's miles from here," Jaxxon brought in. "It's too risky to walk all the way there, and we can't Force-speed up with the ambassador."

"True," Master Daego said. "Then there's only one solution: we need to steal a speeder."

"That's trading one risky plan for an even riskier," the ambassador said. "I don't like it. Besides, where do we get a speeder?"

"That won't pose a problem," Jaxxon said. How else did the Sith get here? I saw no starship while I was in front of the gates, so my guess is they brought each battalion individually. By speeder, or transporter. Either vehicle suits us if we want to reach the Eagle."

"Correct, but how do we get our hands on one? They won't let us take one," the ambassador said.

"Leave that to me," Master Daego said. "Jaxxon, stay around these parts, and protect the ambassador at all costs. And don't get into any fights, unless his life is at stake, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good, I'll be right back," the Jedi Weaponmaster said, and he force-sprinted away as fast as he possibly could.

"Hey, wait, I still haven't put my clothes on," he yelled at his Master, but he was already out of hearing range.

"You look kinda funny like that," the ambassador said, trying to create a lighter atmosphere.

"Shut up, Mister ambassador," Jaxxon said more crudely than he intended. He wasn't in the mood for laughter. He had already seen too much pain and misery tonight.

"Those aliens have no idea what's in store for them," a Sith trooper said to another one.

"Yeah. First they help us enslave the Mared, then we annihilate them in turn."

"Thanks, gentlemen, that's all I needed to know," Master Daego said. "Now, you shall forget about me, and report to your direct officer that the speeder you were guarding was stolen by a Bantha. Go on."

The two Sith troopers marched away. Master Daego heard the one say: "I can't believe that speeder was stolen! I didn't even know Bantha's could fly such things!"

He grinned, and got into the vehicle. The ability to dominate the mind of others, with good intentions of course, was the part he loved most about being a Jedi. Sometimes he used it to create funny situations. In this case, it was a wry action in a world in conflict.

"Now, let's go find Jaxxon and the ambassador, so we can get our asses off this damned planet," he whispered to himself after activating the engine. He sped away to the place he left his Padawan and the ambassador, the wind blazing through his hair after leaving the cockpit intentionally open.

"He's coming," Jaxxon said to the ambassador.

"That's quick," the diplomatic genius remarked.

And 9.3 seconds later, the speeder was parked before their noses.

"Piece of cake," Master Daego said when opening the cockpit he had shut some moments ago. "Didn't even have to draw my lightsabre."

"Erm, Master, don't you think it's a good time for me to get my clothes on."

"No, you should've asked for them when I left." Jaxxon sighed. "Don't worry, they can't hit you to begin with, and I think someone as you should be above such a petty thing as 'feeling cold'. Get in, there'll be plenty of time once we've escaped Beneris."

Jaxxon muttered, but did as his Master requested, although he wasn't very comfortable about fighting his way off a planet in his underpants.

"I know I'm not Zorn Quolyg-Naryn," Master Daego said when grabbing the helm of the speeder, "but I'm a good enough pilot to handle anything they can throw at us."

Jaxxon smiled. He had to remember this. Zorn would be extremely proud of it, even though it was just a little remark.

"Let's go."

They raced across the land without much problems. Any Shelee or Sith troopers they encountered, were easily dealt with ("This speeder has got quite an amount of Bantha-Power for such a small thing," Master Daego commented when running over an entire battalion of Shelee). After about half an hour, they approached the docking bay where they had left the Fortuitous Eagle.

"I sense the ships are heavily guarded," Master Daego said. I think it's best we get out of this speeder from a fair distance, so we can sneak into the docking bay, and steal our ship back without drawing any attention."

"I agree," Jaxxon said. "But what if we encounter any Sith or Shelee on our way who manage to spot us, however unlikely?"

"Then, my dear Padawan, we shall act conform Strategy 23 a/c as described by the Rules of Republic Engagement."

"Elimination of the hostiles," Jaxxon explained when he saw the confused look on the ambassador's face.

"Yes, and that's exactly the Strategy they will apply as well, so be on your guard. Mister ambassador," he said, addressing himself to the Mared, "you have to follow our every lead, understood? Any mistake of either one of us, can result into our untimely death. And I have no intention of dying yet. Nor does my Padawan, and I sincerely doubt you have an uncontrollable death wish... So keep all your bodily functions in line."

"That means: don't talk, listen carefully, look at what we do," Jaxxon explained again.

"Exactly. So, let's move out."

They sneaked towards the harbour, and the two Jedi observed the defences the Shelee had put up.

"Here's the situation," Master Daego said after his scouting the area briefly. "There are about fifty guards at the entrance of the harbour. Each Docking Bay has around 20 patrolling guards, armed with both vibroblades and blasters. I overheard that the ships are also individually protected by two or three guards."

"That's...not really good," Ts'Lukis said.

"Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, Mister ambassador," Master Daego said with a small nod of the head. He couldn't stand such useless remarks

"This makes sneaking virtually impossible," Jaxxon said. "Unless we can manage to steal Sith uniforms."

"Nah, you're too small and I'm too big for such a uniform," Master Daego said, rejecting the plan entirely. "Besides, Mister ambassador wouldn't fit in either, and even if we try to present him as our prisoner, we will need paperwork to prove it."

"Can't you Dominate their minds with the Force?" the ambassador suggested. "You did it with those Sith troopers while stealing the speeder." The ambassador felt he had to make up for his stupid comments earlier. Master Daego realized it, but he still felt he should keep out of it, and leave his protection to him and Jaxxon, unless his advice was asked. So he decided to give another ironic reply.

"There's a big difference between making a Sith-trooper believe his ship was stolen and making hundreds of trained Sith and Shelee soldiers believe that two Jedi and a Mared are their allies. No, that lies not in our power. I doubt anyone could do that."

"Then we have to provide a distraction," Jaxxon advanced.

"How?" Master Daego asked, puzzled but not entirely disapproving.

"I think I have a pretty good idea..." the Padawan said mysteriously.

"Look, are you sure about this?" Master Daego said hesitantly, while holding the speeder into the air using the Force.

"Definitely," Jaxxon said, and he helped his Master raise the speeder into the air. "Just make sure it doesn't hit the guards, that will alarm the others, and raise their awareness. We have to let it explode some 50 yards away from them. Enough to provide a distraction, but not enough to raise a state of red alert."

"Good thinking, my young Padawan," the Jedi Weaponmaster said with a proud smile.

"Of course, they won't all leave their station, but most will, and those that stay will look the other way. In this darkness, we should be able to sneak into the harbour, and when we're inside, things should go a lot easier, because there won't be such big troops."

"Okay, Jaxxon, let's do this. And remember: feel, don't think: use your instincts! Mister ambassador, keep as close to us as... maredly possible, and for the Force's sake, don't make any noise! The slightest cough can give us away!"

Ts'Lukis nodded, and the two Jedi rose. They made a twirling movement with their hands, and the speeder was lifted even higher into the air, and started to spin. And then, at exactly the same time, both Master and Padawan made a movement like throwing a baseball into an open field. The speeder shot forward at an incredible rate of speed, and exploded under the impact of its collision with the ground.

Immediately, a panic arose from the sight of the exploding unidentified object. About 30 Shelee, more than the Jedi had hoped for, instantly ran towards the wreck. The others, just like Jaxxon predicted, looked the other way to see what was going on.

"Let's go," Master Daego whispered. "Utilise the shade, and try to force-distract those who focus their attention on our position."

The Jedi Weaponmaster moved out, and his pupil and the ambassador followed him as close as they could. They managed to sneak in without alarming one of the guards, and as soon as they spotted an open door, the threesome slipped in. It turned out to be the Harbour Control Room, which was very fortunately totally unoccupied.

"So, what do we do now?" Jaxxon asked, after feeling the relief of the emptiness.

"Find the Eagle, perhaps they've transferred it to another Docking Bay," Master Daego said, with a furrow carved into the skin above his thin eyebrows.

"I doubt that, its navigator is voice-locked," Jaxxon replied.

"The Sith don't need navigators to move a ship," Master Daego said while scanning the Harbourmaster's computer to find his ship.

"I've got it," he cheered. "But damn it, they've transferred it, I told you! It's at the farthest Docking Bay, namely... Docking Bay Q-38. Crap..." He slammed his fist on the console, and bit his lip in frustration.

"So, how do we reach our freighter, then?" Jaxxon asked, slightly pursing his lips.

"Sneaking has become as good as impossible in here, I sense too much patrols," Master Daego stated.

"What if we just attack them?" Jaxxon suggested. "There's a good chance we won't even get hurt, after what I saw from them before."

"Too dangerous. Perhaps not for us, but certainly for the ambassador. I can't guarantee his safety if we just barge our way towards the Eagle."

"True," Jaxxon admitted.

"Umm," Ts'Lukis hesitantly said, "perhaps we can mess up their communication, or disarrange their order?"

Jaxxon looked at his Master, who looked right back.

"That's not such a bad idea, Mister ambassador," Master Daego said, surprised that he had after all given a decent suggestion. "After all, this is the room of the harbour master, so if we can hack inside the main computer, we can seriously mess with some of their stuff."  
"Yeah, we can let all patrols move to a certain point in the harbour that is far away from our route," Jaxxon continued.

"But first things first," Master Daego said while walking towards the main harbour console. "Let's get this thing going..."

"Open up!" they suddenly heard someone yell outside of the room, and they heard someone bash on the locked door.

"Oops," Master Daego said, curling one side of his mouth all the way up. "How many do you think there are?"

"I sense just about five Shelee," Jaxxon said, trying to feel the life-energy coming from behind the door.

"Yeah, me too. Prepare," the Jedi Weaponmaster said, and he opened the door using the Force. Jaxxon force-pulled all five Shelee soldiers inside the room, and Master Daego knocked them all out cold by smacking them against each other.

"Close the door, and let's hurry, they'll come looking for this patrol."

Master Daego set himself back behind the console, and his fingers started moving. Jaxxon didn't know what exactly what he was doing, and he figured it was best not to disturb him. He observed him, and saw his upper concentration. His otherwise so joyful and playful manner were now hidden behind the cloak the will to survive. After a minute or so, the Jedi Master finally stopped typing and clicking.

"There," he said, "I reprogrammed the patrol schedule. All patrols have been called to patrol at Docking Bay S-12, the other way of the facility, and I've cut out all their internal communication."

"What if the Shelee figure out the problem and they come back here to fix it?"

"Thought about that, my dear Padawan," he said with a grin on his face. And he activated his two blue lightsabres. With one gracious cut from each, the console was reduced to a sparkling pile of rubble.

"Let's move out," he said.

Jaxxon opened the door, and to his surprise he saw that there was no one in the main corridor of the harbour. It had already flooded empty. Their plan was working. They ran out of the Control Room, and followed the directions to get to Docking Bay Q-38. They ran about 20 minutes without encountering any other life forms. When they arrived at section Q, Master Daego held Jaxxon and the ambassador back.

"Wait," he said with a thoughtful look on his handsome face. "I sense something. Our ship is not unprotected like all the others."

Jaxxon searched through the Force, and he sensed it too. But he didn't need to say that out loud for his Master to know he felt it as well.

"How?" Jaxxon wondered.

"I don't know, but it's possible their communications were already jammed before we gave the order, or they know it's a Jedi-freighter and those Shelee have received strict orders not to leave it unguarded."

"Can't we just steal another ship, then?" the ambassador suggested.

"I want the Eagle, and nothing else," Master Daego grumbled. "That ship is connected to me, and it's the only freighter I can fly well enough to get us through the blockade that has undoubtedly surrounded Beneris by now."

Jaxxon looked up. That was another threat he hadn't thought about.

"How did they find out it's a Jedi-ship anyway?" the ambassador asked.

"No can say," Master Daego replied. "Perhaps their nose is sensible to the terrible stench we Jedi spread. Or perhaps they just noticed the great amount of datapads in the cockpit which state that the private owner of the vessel is in fact, Jedi Weaponmaster Jenson Daego."

The ambassador kept silent, realizing that the Jedi Master was not in the mood to answer trivial questions like this.

"So, are we going to attack them now?" Jaxxon asked, noticing that he sounded a bit too hopeful.

"I guess we have no other choice. But if we do, they'll certainly set off red alert, which means we'll have the entire facility coming after us no matter what orders they received earlier."

"So we're screwed either way," Jaxxon said.

"Basically, yes," his master replied.

Master Daego placed his hand on the back of his head. He softly rubbed his short brown hair, massaging the skin underneath it and peered at the ground through his hazy brown eyes, as if he tried to see the centre of this world. He thought of a plan. A plan that would get him, his best friend and the hope of the entire Mared species off this planet alive. But there wasn't enough time. And their situation seemed hopeless. He had only one option: to trust in his combative capacities, and dispatch those that betrayed all that was good in this universe to the black nothingness of death. He sighed.

"I fear we're in one of those situations where we have to choose between options that are both worse than the other. Mister ambassador, stay close to me. Jaxxon..."

"Yes, Master?"

"May the Force be with you."

And with those words, the Jedi Weaponmaster activated his two blue lightsabres. He strode forward, and quickly drew the attention of the Shelee guarding Docking Bay Q-38.

"Terminate!" he heard someone yell. But they barely stood a chance. Soon, both Jedi were on the receiving end of a rain of energy bolts, every single one of them meant for one thing: killing them. But both Jaxxon and Master Daego deflected them like they had been doing it since the day they were born (this was also the case in the non-proverbial way of speaking). Shelee troopers died by the bushes, felled by the very own blaster shots they had fired at their enemies. The ambassador hid behind the safe veil of the twirling lightsabres of his two protectors, as he prayed to the Mared gods.

Darth Genocid peered at Beneris through the big window in the ship's bridge. They had almost taken complete control of the planet. He grinned. It went even easier than he had suspected.

He reached out through the Force to his former ally. He sensed him on the planet, fighting, alongside his Master. He also sensed the strength he drew from the Jedi Weaponmaster, and the connection between the two. It was at that moment he realized that if he ever wanted to kill Dorma, he had to sever their interconnectedness. The only way to achieve this, was killing Daego. And the only one strong enough to do that, was he himself. Darth Jannays could do it, but she would fall short when Dorma would interfere. Dorma was _her _particular weakness.

And then there were the Quolyg-Naryn brothers, who were a major thorn in his eye. Especially the big one. Zaeyn. He was mighty powerful, and the only one that made Genocid doubt his status of unrivalled warrior. But he had his weaknesses. That weakness was his brother. He'd take care of him too. Perhaps Zaeyn's rage upon seeing the dead carcass of his younger would convince him to join the Sith. And with Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn on their side, the Sith could take over the galaxy easier than taking over an occupied bathroom. But that was all speculation and meaningless cogitation, and Darth Genocid knew he had to keep things in order. First things first. And the first thing was taking over Beneris. Secondly, enslave the Mared. And thirdly, kill every single Shelee. He had no use for a people that needed the help of others to be successful.

Genocid pressed on the intercom, and said: "Tell Darth Capilla to report to me right away." The Dark Lord of the Sith crossed his right arm across his torso, and supported his head with his middle finger and index finger, while turning towards the hologram-transmitter. The hologram of his minion already appeared.

"What is your wish, my Master?" the young, green, Twi'Lek Sith said submissively. He was a very thin Twi'Lek with extremely short headtails that barely reached his shoulders. But he possessed a lot of anger and hate in his young, naïve mind, which is why Genocid allowed him to live. At least for now. And he might yet prove useful...

"Daego and Dorma are in the harbour, on the foreseen spot. Send all your troops in their direction. Make sure the ambassador dies. If Daego or Dorma die along with him, I shall make you my personal apprentice."

The Twi'Lek shuddered at hearing the possibility of such an enormous honour being granted to him.

"At least one of them shall die at the side of the ambassador, my Master," he said, accompanying his words with a deep bow that made his headtails fall over his ears.

"I hope so," the Dark lord replied. "Or you shall die in Jannays' breaking chambers."

The Twi'Lek suddenly felt a lump in his throat, and swallowed, before signing off. Darth Genocid turned away from the hologram-transmitter and he focused his attention back on the planet below. He was curious to see how this would work out.

"Master, we're being ambushed," Jaxxon shouted at his Master, as he saw Sith troopers come from behind them.

"Yeah, I know," he replied while deflecting the shots of the remaining Shelee with a twirl of his right-hand lightsabre and a hack of his left-handed one. Those that had shot him, were felled.

"Circle up around the ambassador," Master Daego cried," don't let anything hurt him. We've almost got a clear run towards the Eagle, there aren't much Shelee left."

"Okay," Jaxxon replied, and with one sidestep, he dodged a bullet, got in front of the ambassador and sent two blaster bolts back with one short swing of his red lightsabre. The Sith behind them were a lot more organized than the Shelee, and Jaxxon was once again frustrated by the fact that they had been lured into this ambush. Behind him, Master Daego cleared the remaining Shelee by sending them in a force-whirlwind that crushed the air out of their bodies.

"Run, mister ambassador, run! Get inside the Eagle!" he yelled at the Mared, and he pulled the ambassador up and he almost carried him to the freighter. He shoved him in, a little bit more violent than was necessary, and he shouted: "Get to the main hold, sit down, and don't move!"

He returned to help his apprentice, who was now single-handedly fighting off over a hundred of Sith-soldiers, all aiming at him to kill. The Jedi Weaponmaster was more afraid than he had ever been before, because now, not only his life was at stake. He ran back at him.

"Retreat into the Eagle," he said. "Quickly!" while also deflecting 12 blaster bolts with his double sabres.

"You go ahead," Jaxxon cried at his master. "I have your back."

"I'm not leaving you alone," the elder Jedi responded. "We're going together, or not at all."

"I'll be alright," he assured his master.

"Stop!" he suddenly heard someone yell from behind the pack of silvery durasteel-clad Sith-troopers. And forth stepped a green Twi'Lek, someone who Jaxxon recognised immediately. It was Darth Capilla, one of Darth Genocid's minions. Jaxxon felt shocked by his appearance. The Capilla he knew, was but a mere grunt, the lowest of all the Darths. He was given unimportant tasks, like assassinations of peasants, thieves and annoying bums. Why was he sent, instead of someone more powerful who had a chance of success, like Darth Karea or Darth Jek-Jek? Anyway, the blaster fire stopped, and the two Jedi felt it was safe to deactivate their lightsabres. The Twi'Lek came closer.

"Dorma, what a pleasure it is to see you again," he spoke. "Unfortunately, your route ends here. You shall not get off Beneris alive."

"Think again" Jaxxon replied. "I know you and your tricks, Capilla. You're no match for me."

"Correction, I _was_ no match for you. But now that you have abandoned the path of the Sith, and stepped into the pillar of light, it is _you _who shall fall at my feet."

"Hollow phrases from a Sith-grunt," Jaxxon snarled. "You have no idea what it is like to have found inner peace and inner strength. The dark side shall never win, no matter how hard they try." Jaxxon stopped talking. He was breathing heavily, and he felt more anger inside him than was safe. But he remembered his master's lessons, and restored his serenity fairly quickly.

"And you're reprimanding me about using hollow phrases? That's a good one," the Sith said with a smile. "But enough talk!" and his face expression became more serious. "I have been given the assignment to kill the ambassador you've stashed away in that ship of yours. Give him up now!"

"You'll only get him over our cold, dead asses," Master Daego interfered. It was a powerful phrase, but he said it such a calm manner that it intimidated Darth Capilla.

"You take the Master," he shouted at the Sith troopers behind him. "But leave the Padawan. He is mine."

"As you wish," Jaxxon said, adding a small curtsey to his invitation.

They both activated their lightsabres, and the blasters started shooting again, only this time, all fire was concentrated on Master Daego. But Jaxxon knew he could not be harmed by these Sith, so he kept focused on the Dark Jedi in front of him.

Capilla was the first to strike. He lunged at Jaxxon with his red sabre, but Jaxxon sidestepped, and smashed his opponent's lightsabre down. He swung his own sword at the Sith, but it was dodged by taking a step backwards. Jaxxon felt calm, inspired by his mentor who was deflecting the blaster shots of almost a hundred Sith troopers like he was taking a walk in a Coruscantian shopping mall.

Capilla came at him again. He raised his sabre high above his head, and flourished it at the Padawan. Jaxxon easily blocked it, and the two adversaries were entangled in a sabrelock. Now, it was a test of strength. Capilla had more physical strength, but Jaxxon used the Force to give him more leverage, and he managed to get the Sith on his knees. Capilla desperately held on this his lightsabre, knowing that the slightest mistake would cost him his life. His sabre came dangerously close to his own face, due to the fact that Jaxxon was pushing it nearer towards him. It almost touched his nose, but the Sith suddenly went to lie flat on the floor, and rolled out of the way. But Jaxxon had anticipated this, and he threw his lightsabre at the spot he predicted Capilla to stop. And he was spot-on. His sabre pierced through the Sith's forehead, making his head burst apart. It was an ugly sight, but Jaxxon had won the duel, short though it was. Master Daego noticed it, and yelled: "Good job, Jaxxon, now get on board!"

But Jaxxon felt another disturbance, and he sensed more soldiers coming. Only they weren't armed with blasters, but with vibroblades.

"Master, I sense more Sith-soldiers arriving," he said, but he suddenly had duck an incoming bullet. Now that their commander was dead, they focused their fire on the two Jedi again.

And then, just like Jaxxon had sensed, a battalion of Sith arrived, armed with swords. And they burst trough the lines of their companions, and charged at the two Jedi. Jaxxon felt their anger, rage and hate, and knew they were a lot stronger than the ones he had encountered before outside the embassy gates.

"Master, get into the ship," he said, despite knowing the risk," I'll take care of them."

"Are you sure?" the Jedi Master asked, worried abut his Padawan's safety.

"Yes, I'll be right there. Get the engine started already."

Master Daego deactivated his two sabres, turned around and with one mighty force leap, he landed inside his freighter's main corridor. He ran towards the cockpit, and fired up the engines.

"Where's your Padawan?" he heard the ambassador ask from behind him. He had almost completely forgotten about him.

"He'll be right back," he said without paying any further notice to him. He reached out at Jaxxon through the Force, and sensed he was in big trouble. He ran back to the freighter's exit ramp, and saw that his Padawan was indeed having difficulties fighting all soldiers off. Master Daego wanted to interfere again, but Jaxxon yelled: "Stay there, I can take them!" as if he knew what his Master was about to do. Master Daego hesitated, but he was soon too stunned to move.

Jaxxon was in deep trouble, and he knew it. He knew only a miracle could save him, and he knew his master would die as well if he came back running into the Docking area, which had turned into a battlefield. He kicked back a Sith soldier, and cut another one's arm off. He kicked another on the knee, and he fell to the ground, without paying any more notice to him. That was a big mistake. He blocked an incoming lunge, and countered it by sticking his blade in the soldier's torso, but the Sith he had just kicked down, managed to swing his sword at his leg, and because he was unprotected, it ripped his calf apart. Jaxxon fell down because of the pain, and he lost control. He felt the immense pain of a vibroblade being stuck into his right abdominals. And everything went black before his eyes.

Master Daego witnessed it all with an insuperable paralysis controlling his body. He felt the life-energy of his Padawan vanish, and he realized all help would be too late for him. There he stood, in the opening on his freighter's entrance, and an uncontrollable anger was pumped from his heart into his muscles. And he unleashed it all. He sent forth such a powerful Force Wave that the entire Docking Bay was thrown off their feet, and the nearest battalion of vibroblade-armed Sith lost consciousness, save for two others. Master Daego saw one trying to grab Jaxxon's lightsabre from the Padawan's dead hand, but he summoned it at him, and put it in his pocket. And then, he did something he had never done before. He lifted the two conscious soldiers up, and using the force, he squeezed their tracheae. They choked, and died within seconds, after their lungs collapsed. But Master Daego knew he couldn't stay any longer if he wanted to avoid his Padawan's fate. He got into his ship, and closed the exit ramp.

The engines were already warm, so they could take off immediately. He ran into the cockpit, followed by the ambassador.

"Where's Jaxxon?" he inquired.

"DEAD!" he shouted forcefully. "Now give me a hand here, we're not out of this yet!"

Visibly shocked, Ts'Lukis sat himself down next to Master Daego.

"I suppose you're not a genius behind turret lasers?" the Jedi rhetorically asked.

"Not as such, no," the ambassador confessed with a feeling of utter uselessness.

"Great. Hang on!"

Master Daego took off, and the Eagle sped towards the planet's atmosphere. Within mere seconds, they had already left the planet, and they flew in space. He saw the blockade the Sith had put up, and he felt anxious. He was known for being an extremely good duellist, not for his flying skills. It didn't take long for the Sith to notice the freighter.

"Incoming vessel, identify yourself," he heard through the comm.

"Kiss my ass!" he shouted back, as he sped towards the Sith ships. "Mister ambassador, would you be so kind to push to red button on your left and pull the big handle in front of you when I tell you to? Thanks very much."

The ambassador sought the two things and found them instantly.

"Push the red button, now!" Master Daego cried, and the ambassador did so. They received a boost in speed, and the Jedi noticed there were some Sith-fighters on their trail.

"Shields up," the Jedi said, and he pushed two triangular buttons on the dashboard. He felt the Eagle shock, which meant they were hit. But the shields would be an effective barrier, as long as they weren't hit too much.

He flew over the control ship, and left the blockade behind him, but the rumblings got worse, and the shields started losing power.

"Damn it," he shouted. "Take over the controls, Mister ambassador, keep flying straight, if you don't mind. I'm going to the turrets."

Master Daego ran as fast as his legs allowed him to, and took position behind the Eagle's main cannon. He peered through the gun's seeker, and he saw 10 Sith-fighters on their trail. He wasn't a very good shot, but with the Force as his guide, he shot down three of the fighters within 10 seconds. Master Daego knew those fighters, and he had knowledge of their weak points. He aimed at another fighter, and he hit it in its right engine, that was partially unprotected. It exploded, and the wreckage took another fighter out. Five remained. Master Daego concentrated. He could feel two fighters trying to circle around him, and he used the Force to draw them closer to each other. One of the Sith-pilots lost concentration, and he flew into his ally. 3 remained.

"I just received a message that our shields are down," he heard the ambassador say through the communicator. He sounded terrified.

"Relax," Master Daego reassured him, "we'll get through this alive."

He followed a fighter with a trail of blaster fire until it finally hit target. The fighter exploded. Two remained. And once again, the Jedi reached out at the pilots through the Force. He heard their echoes, and he tried to disrupt them. He confused a pilot's mind, causing him to turn against his ally. The fighter did the work for him, and after he shot down the Sith-fighter, he kamikazed himself against the main-control ship.

"Pull the handle," Master Daego shouted at the ambassador through the comm. And Master Daego felt the incredible acceleration of light speed hit them, as they escaped into hyperspace.

Next chapter: A guilt-stricken Master Daego tells his story to the Council; Zaeyn secretly celebrates Jaxxon's death; Zorn talks to Master Kraenos about his trials


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07: Master Daego returns**

"Cheers," Zaeyn said to the Rodian next to him, while holding up his glass of Tarisian Ale. Jedi normally weren't really allowed to go boozing, but Zaeyn made an exception for himself this time. He had a reason to celebrate. He sipped, and the red liquor burned in his throat. The area around his cheekbones got warmer, and it felt great. As soon as he and Zorn had heard the news, Zaeyn was in an awful good mood. Of course, he pitied the Mared on Beneris, and he would love nothing more than to go there himself and kick Genocid off the planet. But Dorma's death made up for all of it. He had been a major nuisance ever since joining the Jedi.

"More like a Bantha up my flaccid asshole," Zaeyn whispered and he grinned before sipping again. The Tarisian Ale made him light-headed and he found it great to put all the galaxy's troubles aside for an evening.

"And all thanks to you," Zaeyn said while peering at the limpid fluid in his glass. He gulped down the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the bar.

"Another one," he said to the bartender. "You only hear the news that your sister's murderer is finally dead once in a lifetime, right?"

"Quite right," the bartender, a filthy looking Gamorrean, squealed while filling Zaeyn's glass. "So, did you kill him, or was it someone you hired?"

"Well, strangely enough, I had nothing to do with it," the gigantic Iridonian said. "I've been planning to kill him ever since that day I heard he killed my twin-sister. Things then got a little more complicated, because he became a member of... my 'group'." Zaeyn doubted if it was wise to continue speaking about it, especially in a place like this, where the walls had ears. But he enjoyed the moment too much, and the Tarisian Ale had made his mind more reckless than was healthy for a Jedi.

"Still, I plotted to take him down without discrediting me. But now that my plans were near their conclusion, the ones of his... his former 'tribe', killed him. Lucky, eh?"

The Gamorrean bartender let out a loud, piggy snort, and Zaeyn was disgusted by how rank the pig's breath was. Normally, he would have made a sarcastic remark about it, but then maybe he'd refuse to stop serving him. And the Ale was too good...

"Here's to Zaerdra Quolyg-Naryn," Zaeyn quietly spoke, as he lifted his glass, his big, muscled arm bulging under the movement. "Avenged at last. May the Force be with your spirit." And the Ale continued to flow until the beams of the morning sun stroked the Coruscantian skyscrapers.

Master Daego sat in his chamber. He had just been ordered to report to the Council at once, for a debriefing session. He had already told them what happened: the set-up, the involvement of the Sith, the blockade around Beneris, Jaxxon's death... Now was the time to make it all official. He would go to the Council to bring out a detailed report, while a short-hand writer would record everything he said, and store it in the Jedi Archives. He sighed. It was hard to believe his Padawan was gone. They had grown close the last couple of weeks, especially since their mission on Tatooine, which the Quolyg-Naryns had finished for them. He had started to look at Jaxxon as a friend, rather than his Padawan, or even the ex-Sith Marauder before that. But he was gone, and that was all there was to it. And yet, it didn't feel right. He had seen Jaxxon getting hurt severely. First, his calf got slashed, then his lower upper body was pierced, which was extremely lethal. He had felt his life-energies fade away, like a sigh of wind that is lost in the trees. And still, he did not believe he was gone. Although, even now, he couldn't feel his Padawan's signature in the countless echoes the Force constantly sent forth, which could only mean the worst.

Master Daego stood up from his bed. He put on his Jedi Robe, and hung his two lightsabres to his belt. His eye fell on Jaxxon's lightsabre, that was lying on top of his black robes. The Weaponmaster remembered how the brave kid had been fighting off an entire legion of Shelee and Sith soldiers all by himself, in his underwear, and felt a sharp pain lashing at his heart. He wished he could turn back time. Deep inside, he knew he could have saved Jaxxon, if it weren't for that stupid ambassador. He hadn't spoken a word to Ts'Lukis ever since he ordered him to make the jump to light speed. He blamed him for everything, while he of course knew that the Shelee and the Sith were to blame, and no one else. But blaming someone else than yourself was a lot easier. He opened his door with a simple flick of his left-handed index finger. To his surprise, he saw Zorn standing in front of his door opening. He was not surprised he had not felt his approaching presence. He had a lot going on in his mind.

Zorn seemed to be bothered by something, and Master Daego didn't even wonder what it was. He could feel doubt in the youngster's body. The same kind of doubt he felt himself.

"Master Daego," Zorn said as a manner of greeting, bowing slightly.

"Zorn," the elder Jedi replied, with a small nod. "What can I do for you?"

"I would like to talk to you, if you do not mind, Master," the Padawan said. Master Daego looked at the Zabrak, and he felt it was indeed necessary to hear what he had to say. Perhaps his own suspicions were shared by the Iridonian Padawan. And Master Daego could use that, if only to reinforce the faith in himself.

"I would love to, Zorn, but we'll need to talk while walking. I've got an appointment with the Council. Is that okay with you?"

"Certainly, Master," Zorn said respectfully, and the two Jedi started walking.

"So, what is it you want to ask me?" Master Daego inquired.

"Well, Master, I was meditating in my room after I heard... the news, and for some reason, I felt..."

"Doubt?"

"Yes, indeed. It's almost as if..."

"You don't believe Jaxxon is really dead?"

The Padawan stared at the Weaponmaster, as he summoned an elevator.

"Exactly," Zorn replied. "I mean, you say you saw him get killed in battle, right?"

Master Daego nodded, and they both stepped into the elevator that would take them to the Council's level.

"Well, it is strange Master, but during my meditation, I didn't sense his life-energies or anything, but I did feel... something else."

Master Daego looked at Zorn, and he became very interested.

"What did you feel, Zorn?"

"i felt... resistance" the Padawan replied hesitantly.

"What do you mean by that?" Master Daego asked. His heart started beating faster. The fact Zorn felt all of this, meant a lot to the experienced Jedi.

"I felt Jaxxon. But in a very strange way. I didn't feel his life-energy, I didn't feel his echo through the Force. I felt his... resistance to death. It's as if he's somewhere between life and death, slowly waiting for what is going to happen. And what's more..."

"Yes...?" Master Daego curiously asked, urging him to go on.

"I felt the bond. The bond between you and him. The bond that was forged when you turned him away from the Dark Side. I think that as long as you live, Master, Jaxxon can't truly die. Just like you can't truly die as long as Jaxxon lives."

Master Daego was lost in thought. What this young Padawan was telling him, was puzzling, confusing, but also exciting and very hope giving, even if it was just a chimera.

"Thanks for telling me this, Zorn,"he said, and he gave the youngster a grateful pat on his back. "You have an extraordinary talent, young man. Thank you for telling me this," he repeated, and he took a decision. A decision that would undoubtedly be disapproved of by the entire Council, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Zorn had convinced him. There was still hope. "And as long as there is hope, I must endeavour to save him and the entire planet," the Weaponmaster thought. The elevator stopped, and both Jedi got out.

"Is it okay if I tell the Council of your suspicions, Zorn?" Master Daego kindly asked the Iridonian.

"What suspicions?" he heard a voice behind him say. He turned around, but eh already knew it was Zaeyn who had interrupted them.

"It's none of your business, Zaeyn," Zorn said.

As the huge brother of the small Padawan approached, Master Daego could smell the alcohol, piss and sweat that hung around the Knight, as if it was woven into the cloth of his robes.

"I think everything that concerns you is my business, little brother," Zaeyn replied.

"Zorn is old and wise enough to decide what is his own business I think," Master Daego said. "Especially wise enough." Zorn felt a flicker of pride ignite in his stomach.

The Knight got closer to the Weaponmaster. Master Daego had to stretch his neck to see his face.

"Wisdom is overrated," Zaeyn said. "It is knowledge that matters," he added with a faint grin.

"Speaking of knowledge," Master Daego said, "you still stink of the cantina. I also hold knowledge of the fact that you have violated your commitment to the Jedi, and celebrated the death of an ally who was a better man than you are."

"How do you know that?" Zaeyn asked, his voice losing its arrogance and hauteur, suggesting shame and instability.

"You're not the only one who visits 'Nosem Bekatis' every now and then you know. I just don't enjoy Tarisian Ale as much as some other... customers do."

Zaeyn gritted his teeth, turned on his heel and left the two.

"Thanks," Zorn said with a smile. "I'm sorry he's so arrogant."

"Yeah, well," Master Daego sighed, "let's just hope it's only his arrogance we have to keep in check."

"I did learn a lot from him on our mission, though," Zorn confessed. "It's just that I am irritated by him much too fast."

"Irritation is a common feeling," the Jedi Master put the Padawan at ease, "just don't let it turn into something darker, like anger."

Zorn nodded. "I think you should go in now, Master," he said while pointing at the door that led to the round Council Chamber.

"Quite right. I'll be seeing you, Zorn."

The door behind Master Daego closed. He walked to the centre of the circle that the Jedi Council formed. He turned his face to Master Kraenos, who had a thoughtful expression sticking on his facial elements. His greyish hair stood up lightly because of the sweaty palms he had held it in all the time. His eyes were focused on Master Daego's face, and his lips were slightly pursed. He slowly opened his mouth to speak. His dry lips stuck together for a split-second, but he addresses his fellow Master in a calm and kind manner.

"You know why we have called you here, I take it?"

"Yes, Master," Jenson Daego nodded.

"Good. Tell us everything that happened. From the very first breath of Benerissian oxygen to the moment you set foot on Coruscant again."

Master Daego told his story. It took him quite a while. He told them of their meeting with Ts'Lukis, how he had assured him that everything would be all right; he told them of the assault of the Mared embassy, and how they had escaped; he told them of the Sith's plans he extracted from the two Sith soldiers that were guarding the speeder; he told them of how they sneaked into the harbour using their decoy; he told them of how Jaxxon had fought off entire battalions to ensure his and Ts'Lukis's safety; he told them of how he died, and how he left him without doing nothing; he told them of how they got through the Sith-blockade that encircled the planet and escaped into hyperspace.

As soon as he finished, he saw all the Council members take it in. It was not easy to comprehend how a planet could be engulfed in an open civil war so quickly, with the enslavement of an entire species happening at the moment, and the destruction of another unsuspecting species looming.

"Genocid has been very, very crafty this time," Master Beca Ahas said.

"True," Master Kraenos confessed. "Although it was partially our own fault, but especially yours, Daego, not to see this coming."

Master Daego looked at the ground. He had seen this coming, and he had blamed himself for it too.

"Still," Master Kraenos continued, "what's done is done. There is no point in making reproaches right now."

"I agree," Triss Kae fell in. "Right now, we have to make Beneris, and the safety of the Benerissian citizens our main priority."

"So what will happen now?" Master Daego inquired. But he had already made his own decision.

"Together with Ts'Lukis, we will lay out a strategy to reclaim Beneris," Kenten Opiaf, an orange Twi'Lek and one of the Council's eldest members, said. "We want to avoid an intergalactic war at all cost. Diplomacy shall..."

"Diplomacy is not going to work this time, Kenten," Triss Kae interrupted him. "We're already beyond that stage. The Shelee are under the influence of the Sith like a puppet that's being dangled by an evil puppeteer. The Sith are pulling their strings, and we all know the Sith aren't really interested in finding diplomatic solutions. Certainly not with us Jedi. And certainly not with that insane, bloodthirsty maniac of a Darth Genocid at the steering wheel."

"How beautiful your metaphors may be, Triss," Luge Masdet, a female Rodian, said, "that doesn't change the fact that Kenten is right. We have to try. Perhaps the Shelee aren't so influenced by the Sith as you think."

"Pfah, the Shelee won't listen to any reason," Beca Ahas agreed with Triss Kae, "certainly not at this point. They've been wanting this kind of power over Beneris from even before their emancipation. Zeborah and Mopaka are probably having the time of their lives now. They're totally exhilarated."

"But we at least need to warn them from the threat the Sith pose to them," Kenten Opiaf said. "That's our duty. Then, if they won't listen to reason, it's their own fault. But I feel we at least need to give them a choice."

"They already made a choice," Master Kraenos interfered. "They made a choice when they aligned with the Sith. They're not interested in peace as long as there is a single free Mared running around on their planet."

"But they do not know the Sith are planning to take them down!" Master Opiaf insisted.

"The Shelee don't care," Piahi Lumenos, another Ortolan, said, entering the debate as well. "They don't want to see that far ahead. They'll deal with the Sith, if they do decide to turn against them. But not yet. Now, they're receiving their help, and they will never, ever risk their chance of losing the domination over Beneris at such an early stage of their coup. They can't do this without the Sith, so they will heed none of our warnings against them."

"Master Daego, what do you think?" Master Kraenos asked the Weaponmaster, who was still standing in the centre of the room.

"Jazen, he's not a member of the Council," Luge Masdet said. "He shouldn't even be here anymore."

"I'll decide that. I value his opinion. Go on."

Master Daego took a breath. He had taken every single word in, but none of it had changed his opinion about the decision he had already made.

"I think we are in a difficult position. If we do not warn the Shelee, we are facing the enslavement of the Mared, and the Shelee's extinction. If we do warn them, it is possible the Sith will speed up their plans, if the Shelee pay any heed to out warning at all that is. But if the total enslavement of the Mared isn't yet fully completed, I foresee some sort of guerilla warfare, which the Mared are doomed to lose."

"Then what do you suggest?" Beca Ahas asked abruptly.

"I suggest that I go to Beneris. Alone." Master Daego looked at the others to see their reaction.

The Council was shocked by this revelation. They all gasped for air, and none of them really believed what he had just said.

"Are you out of your mind, Jenson?" Master Kraenos asked with his mouth still open. "That is absolutely out of the question!"

"Trust me, it is the only way," he replied. He had expected this kind of reaction, and he felt more audacious than ever.

"What makes you think this is 'a way' to begin with?" Master Lumenos said.

"One man is enough to raise an army of Mared. I can gather them. I can organize them. I can make them fight back. I can prevent this from becoming an interplanetary issue, and I can see to it that those who committed evil deeds, will be punished." He said this with such determination that some of the Council Members were actually starting to become convinced by the plan. But the rest, the most of them, were still rejecting it.

"It's impossible," Master Kraenos said. "Who says you will even reach Beneris? You just told us of the Sith blockade that surrounds the planet. You won't be able to get through it, not without any help at least. Last time, you needed Ts'Lukis, an effete politician, to save you. You won't get through there."

"Send someone with him, then," Triss Kae suggested. "Zorn could easily get through that blockade."

"I shall not waste my Padawans' life on such a suicide mission," Master Kraenos powerfully said. "It's way too risky for him."

"Zorn is capable enough," Triss Kae insisted. "He can protect Master Daego in space, Master Daego can protect him on the surface."

"Like he protected Dorma?" Master Lumenos sarcastically said. Master Daego felt a twinge of anger flash through his body, but he pushed it back and calmed his mind.

"Why do you want to go back to Beneris so badly?" Master Kraenos asked Master Daego. "You know it is suicide. Then why...?"

"Guilt," Master Daego confessed. "I feel guilty."

"Because of Jaxxon?" Triss Kae asked. Master Daego nodded.

"And there's more to it. I have a suspicion he might still be alive."

The Council was amazed by this even more than by his previous statement.

"What do you mean?" Beca Ahas said. "You told us he was dead!"

"Yes, now all of a sudden you think he's alive?" Master Opiaf added to the previous comment."

"I'm not the only one who thinks so," Master Daego said. "Zorn suspects it too."

"Zorn, huh?" Master Kraenos said. "Let him come in here at once."

Barely a minute later, Zorn Quolyg-Naryn stood next to Master Daego, feeling very anxious. All the council members were looking at him as if he had committed some sort of crime. Only Master Kae and Master Kraenos looked at him with a shred of sympathy mixed in their gaze.

"Master Daego told us you believe the Padawan Jaxxon Dorma is still alive," Master Kraenos said. "Is this true?"

"Yes, my Master," Zorn affirmed. "I felt it while meditating."

"Then how come the entire Council doesn't feel him?" Master Lumenos asked sceptically.

"Because you're not focusing on the right kind of signal," Zorn explained. "I did not feel life-energy, nor did I hear any echo of any kind. I just sensed resistance, and his bond with Master Daego that brought forth a lot of power. And that power, hailed from Beneris."

The Council was stupefied. They were receiving a lecture from a mere Padawan, something which stuck in a couple of Master's throats. But Master Kraenos seemed impressed.

"You speak with a wisdom way beyond your years, my Padawan," he proudly said. "But you have to admit we can't make any hasty decisions based on the feelings of one Padawan."

"Certainly not, my Master," Zorn understandingly admitted. "But Master Daego feels it too."

"I still think we should send Zorn with him," Triss Kae said, picking up an earlier debate.

"No, it's too risky," Master Kraenos said while shaking his head.

"Come on, it'd be excellent trials for the kid!"

"That's something for me to decide, Triss. He's my Padawan. Besides, I don't want him to get killed. Zaeyn would never forgive us if something would happen to Zorn on this mission."

"True, my old Padawan would be in realistic danger of letting dark emotions gain the upper hand of him," Master Lumenos agreed.

"Oh, so that's what it's all about?" Triss Kae spat. "You want to keep _Zaeyn_ happy, is that it?"

"It's in our best interest," Master Kraenos calmly said, despite the mocking undertone in Master Kae's voice. "You all know the kind of rage he possessed when his sister Zaerdra, your ex-Padawan, Triss, was killed. If something were to happen to young Zorn here, all those feelings could resurface. And the last thing I want to happen right now, is Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn falling to the dark side. Because believe me, then we are all done for!"

The entire Council, including the two Jedi standing in the centre, saw the truth in his words, even though they didn't like them. It was alarming that the Council feared one of their own so much.

"Okay, Zorn won't go with me, then," Master Daego said.

Zorn was a bit ashamed. They were talking about him like he wasn't there, and it made him doubt his importance. He derived from their words that Master Daego was going back to Beneris. He himself would have preferred to go with his personal hero, and it pained him even more that it was Zaeyn, again him, who prevented it, even if he had no knowledge of this fact.

"Who says you're going, to begin with?" Master Lumenos asked him, visibly upset by the audacious nature of the weaponmaster's words.

"I do," Master Daego said. "Without the Council's permission if I have to. But I am going." He looked from Lumenos back to Master Kraenos, who took a deep breath, and forced a smile upon his face.

"There's no need to be this defiant, Jenson," Master Kraenos said. "I think it's a good plan. I just think it will not be successful. The dangers are too many to enumerate. I fear for your life. It's too risky."

"With all due respect my Master," Zorn suddenly spoke, "being a Jedi itself is a big risk we're all taking." The Padawan could hear whispers go around the circular chamber. He didn't know if that was a good thing, or not. Most probably the latter.

"Master, if I do not go, I will never forgive myself," Master Daego said, focusing his eyes on the wrinkles in Master Kraenos's forehead. "My emotions are troubled. It's disturbing me. Right now, I am struck by guilt. I have to find out if Jaxxon is alive, only then can I rediscover internal peace. And if he truly is dead, I need to complete what my Padawan started. I need to keep as much Mared safe as possible. This is my duty!" Master Daego radiated determination. Most of the other Masters were impressed by his words and his courage.

The Council remained silent. They were weighing his words, the pro's and the con's, carefully.

"It's too reckless," Master Lumenos kept going on, and he shook his head. "We should at the very least_ take our time _to decide anything. This is too important a matter to commit rash actions."

"Master Daego is not just a common man," Triss Kae said in the weaponmaster's defence. "Think of everything he has done before. His entire career is based on... recklessness as you call it, Piahi. And yet he has been more successful and has saved more lives than almost every other Jedi in this room." Master Kae looked at the brown-haired weaponmaster. He gave the female Ortolan a small nod as a sign of his appreciation.

"And, perhaps it is just what we need," Beca Ahas, the male Jenet, fell in. "Even if it is only just a minor distraction, it could buy us the time you apparently think we so desperately need."

"Fine," Master Kraenos said eventually. "You can go, but you're going alone. We're giving you one fighter we have stolen from the Sith. Perhaps you'll get through the blockade easier that way, if you manage to get through at all. You must make contact with us as soon as you land. You mustn't do anything without our permission while you're down there. Got it?"

"Yes, Master," he replied.

"Okay, then. You may depart for Beneris whenever you're ready. You'll find your Sith-fighter in Docking Bay 49-BDS. May the Force be with you. You will need it. Zorn, come see me in the Jedi Archives after our session is over."

Both Jedi Weaponmaster Jenson Daego and Padawan Zorn Quolyg-Naryn bowed before the Council, and they left the round chamber with a mixed feeling of excitement, disappointment, but most of all... hope.

"Can't I come with you?" Maela Ulchnar asked her old Master, who had come to greet her, and tell her of his plans before leaving again.

"I'm afraid not, Maela," Master Daego smiled. "The Council thinks it's too risky, and they don't want to waste more than one life on this 'suicide mission', as some called it. If I hadn't been as persistent as I was, they wouldn't even have given _me_ permission."

"Do you really think Jaxxon's still out there?"

"I think so, yes," the Weaponmaster said. "Barely alive, but still breathing. That's what matters. I have to get him out of there, that's my main priority."

"I thought you wanted to 'save as many Mared as possible'," Maela reminded him, remembering what Master Daego earlier said about his meeting with the Council.

"Yes, well, it all depends on what they want me to do, of course. But I first have to know what happened to my Padawan. If he lives, I'll make sure he's safe. If he's really dead, well... Then there's nothing more I can do for him, so I'll do as the council instructs." He sighed and looked at the pretty face of his former Padawan. "I know this must be weird for you, I know you and him have a troubled history, but..."

"Oh, I understand," she said while nodding. "I mean, you trust him, Zorn trusts him, Master Kraenos and Master Kae seem to trust him. Who am I not to trust him as well, then? And I forgive him. For what he did to me, I mean. He could have tortured me to death, but he didn't. Even as a Sith, he had some shreds of decency in him. And he certainly knows how to spice things up around here. It's been boring every time he left Coruscant."

Master Daego smiled. "I'm proud of the Jedi you have become, Maela. And I foresee you will build a legacy of your own you can be proud of when you rest your old, wrinkled butt on a Council seat never to come off again. Much like Master Opiaf," he added, a comment to which both Jedi grinned.

"Well, I wish you all the best," Maela said. "Come 'ere, you reckless rascal!" and she hugged him tightly. "May the Force be with you, Master," she whispered in his ear.

"Ah, Zorn, there you are!" Master Kraenos said as he saw his Padawan approach. The Jedi Master was reading a datapad that told about the Beast Wars on Onderon, involving the legendary Ulic Qel-Droma. It was one of his favourite tales, but he put it away.

The Zabrak bowed before his Master, and he stood there. He hadn't said anything yet. Kraenos rubbed his temple, loosening some grey hairs (grey was his natural hair colour, which made him look much older than he really was). He removed them from his hand by wiping it against his Jedi Robe. It was a nasty habit of him.

"Now," he said, looking at Zorn, "you remember why I called you here, right?"

"To talk about my trials, Master," the Iridonian said. He was nervous, which was understandable. Trials were very important to a Jedi. They determined the further course of his life, and gave an indication of what rank you would receive when you possibly got promoted. Master Daego was a Weaponmaster; Master Kraenos was a Jedi Watchman; Master Kae was a Jedi Master;... Zorn suspected he'd become a Watchman, just like his Master, if he made it through the trials _and_ got promoted. Zaeyn would undoubtedly become a Weaponmaster, just like Maela when she got her promotion. He quickly wondered what Jaxxon would have become. Or still would be? Who knew? Soon, Master Daego would. But his mind wandered, while he should be focusing on the here and now. "Be mindful of the future, but not at the cost of the present," he remembered. It was one of the basic lessons that were taught to apprentices.

"Yes, your trials," Master Kraenos continued. "Let me ask you something first, though." The Jedi Watchman scraped the inside of his cheek with his tongue. An indication that he considered this important, Zorn knew from previous experiences. He had a presentiment what the question would be.

"When we discussed whether you could go to Beneris along with Master Daego... I sensed you wanted to. Is that correct?" It was not the question Zorn had expected.

"Well, yes," Zorn said, deciding there was no use denying it.

Master Kraenos sighed. "I thought so. I can't blame you, though. Master Daego is an extraordinary Jedi. His late master Ulras, may the Force guide his spirit, did a great job with him. I remember when I first saw him. I was just a Knight back then, and Ulras had just been promoted to Weaponmaster. Jenson, Master Daego, was his first Padawan. From the very beginning it was obvious he'd be destined for greatness. I remember a specific mission he was sent to do, along with his Master of course. He was only 13 years old at the time. They were on Dagobah to investigate the poisoning of the marshes, disrupting the planet's entire ecosystem. It was all a set-up by bounty-hunters who were collecting bounties for live Jedi. They poisoned Ulras, and took him away. The young Padawan Jenson Daego was left behind, managing to escape their pursuers. But he also managed to get off the planet using their nearly destroyed fighter, which he had to repair all by himself with what little material he had available, and followed the scumbags, pardon the expression, to CaliburIV, a moon of Calibur, somewhere on the Outer Rim. There, he not only managed to free his master without even activating his lightsabre, he also managed to escape with a freighter he won through a game of Pazaak: the Fortuitous Eagle. He brought Ulras back to Coruscant, the Master was cured, and the Padawan was awarded a medal of valour. When he finally reached your age, he was one of those cases where you thought: 'What does he even need trials for anyway? Look at what he has already done!' He of course did have to do the trials, but he passed them glamorously. And personally, Zorn, I think you belong in that same category. You have already proven so much at your young age. Zaeyn told me of the rather strange encounter you had with the alpha male of a pack of rancors. I am very impressed by that, my young Padawan, and I am truly honoured to have been your Master."

Zorn blushed. To receive so much praise from the President of the High Jedi Council was indeed very pleasant.

"So I am allowed to take the trials?" Zorn said hopefully.

"Yes," Master Kraenos said, and a big load fell off the Iridonian's shoulders. "But not alone."

"What?" Zorn said confused. Normally, the essence of the trials was for a Padawan to prove that they could work independently, utilising only their own skill, knowledge, wisdom and strength. "What do you mean, Master?"

"The galaxy is pretty quiet for the moment," the Watchman said, "something which I can only approve of. For the moment, there are only two major disturbances: the Beneris conflict, and a property dispute on Malastare that is big enough to be seen as a small impending civil war. But it is too big for one Padawan to monitor, we don't even expect something like that from a Master."

"Then who will you send with me?" Zorn asked curiously.

"That, my Padawan, I leave up to you. You can ask anyone that hasn't been assigned and that agrees to come with you. Do you already have a preference?"

Zorn thought. He first thought of his elder brother, but he soon rejected that. Two missions with Zaeyn in under a week would be too much to bear. He then thought of Master Kae. She was always very nice to him, and she seemed to have high expectations for him. Next to that, Zorn had never seen her in action. But he was a bit afraid to ask someone of the High Council. But there was of course...

"I'd like to ask Maela," Zorn said. "Maela Ulchnar. She's a good friend of mine."

"Ah, Master Daego's old Padawan," the Watchman replied with a smile. "Yes, she's an excellent choice. A superb sword fighter with a lot of spirit. And, next to that, quite pleasant to look at."

"Yes, and she's been complaining about how boring things have been lately," Zorn added. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

"Well, that's settled, then. Come meet me tomorrow for the briefing."

Master Daego left 'Nosem Bekatis'. He had just said goodbye to Polly, and he had bought some supplies should he need them. The little Twi'Lek was thrilled to see him again, and she had been able to up his courage a little bit. She always had that effect on him. His relationship, which involved its forbidden, passionate moment, with Polly was the only wrong thing he didn't feel guilty about. Jaxxon knew... had known, about it, and he was the only one. But Master Daego was a bit afraid about what would happen in the High Council found out about it. But it shouldn't be all that bad. Either he'd be expelled and exiled, or either he'd receive a formal warning. Both didn't really matter to him. And if he was exiled, he could always take Polly with him.

Jenson Daego sighed as he reported himself at Docking Bay 49-BDS. He wasn't afraid. He was even a bit excited. And as he got into the Sith Fighter, he had a presentiment that everything would be all right. Then again, he had the same feeling when Ts'Lukis, Jaxxon and himself were walking towards the embassy.

Next Chapter: The current situation on Beneris becomes is explained and Darth Genocid meets Zeborah and Mopaka for the first time since their coup d'état.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08 – The Bond that can't be broken**

_Darth Dorma boarded 'The Brittannica', the ship Jenson Daego was using. It was the grand flagship of the Jedi Order, protected by the best weapons, the bravest soldiers, and the deadliest droids. "They're all gonna die," Darth Dorma bluntly thought, as he saw the first group of Republic soldiers come at him. They all, about 15 men, aimed at him with their standard blaster rifles. With one flick of his hand, the weapons sprung backwards, as if somebody had kicked against their barrels. They all hit the noses of their possessors. The more sturdy soldiers managed to stay on their feet, those who were easier caught off guard or had less constitution fell backwards. It didn't matter much. Dorma pulled the weapons towards him, and turned them around. With a single movement of his finger, they fired at their previous owners. Not a single blaster missed its target. The 15 men lay down on the ground, dead or dying. Among the death-rattle, Dorma concentrated. He reached out to their departing spirits, and could feel how the people around him died. He felt a twinge of guilt, but it was gone even faster than it had arrived. He was a Sith, petty emotions like guilt weren't worthy of him. _

_He proceeded through the long corridor that would take him to the central room, from which all other corridors set out. The entrance was guarded by three soldiers. Dorma slammed them against the wall using the Force. The impact itself was enough to kill them, but he made sure of their deaths by sucking their life-energy out. He created a Death Field around them, and a red beam shot fort, adding their life-energies to Dorma's. It wasn't really a lot, but Dorma grinned, as the little cut he got from shaving his teenage-beard that morning closed up and disappeared. _

_He stepped into the central room. Almost a hundred troopers were waiting for him there. He raised his left hand, and blue flashes of electricity were sent at the powerless soldiers. As soon as the pure energy hit and killed a soldier, it shot forth at another one, and so on and so forth. It was the perfected and upgraded form of the Force Storm, a most powerful technique only Dorma possessed. And he was justly proud when he saw that among the pile of dead only a few soldiers out of a hundred had survived. They all would've died eventually, but Dorma figured he could use one of the dying soldiers for directions. He elevated the one closest to him, and he threw him before his feet. The man, who was about twice Dorma's age, was desperately clinging on to his most dearest possession: his life. But he was failing miserably, and it was a painful death. Flashes of electricity were still shocking his body, and the gaping holes the energy had created, would cause even the sturdiest of men great pain. Dorma bowed over the dying corpse._

"_Tell me," he said with his cold, inempathetic voice, "which corridor will take me to Jenson Daego the fastest and I shall end your suffering."_

_The soldier looked up at the Marauder with bloodshot eyes, and his lips moved. No words came out. Dorma reached out at the soldier's mind, and sensed the words he was trying to express. It was a curse in Huttese, Dorma realised. The guy had a sense of humour. But it would not help him._

"_That's not the answer I was looking for," Dorma said, and he decided to torture the guy. He laid his hand of the dying man's body, and closed his eyes. He felt the burned flesh with the tip of its finger, and softly stroked it. And with the Force, he began to heal the wounds. After about a minute or so, the man's superficial wounds had vanished, along with the pain._

"_I'm not telling you how to reach him," he bravely said. The fear was in his eyes, as the young Sith approached closer. He tried to back off, but Dorma pulled him closer, and rendered him immobile in a stasis field. He was the only Sith who could heal other people and create such immobility barriers._

"_Do not challenge me," Dorma said. "I could break your mind and your body too. Which is exactly what I will do."_

_He put out a hand, and focused. The look on the man's eyes got from bad to worse. All he could do was painfully scream. Green, toxic fumes started to come out of his mouth, and soon he was unable to scream his pain away. He choked in the toxic that his own body was sending forth, while his internal organs were burning up. It was the most horrible death Dorma could create. Then again, he wasn't as sadistic as Jannays, who was an expert on torture and inflicting physical pain on a body. But the Republic Soldier deceased nonetheless extremely painful._

_Dorma crouched next to the dead body, and closed the eyelids of the man. Such a waste of life... But that was the fate of those who crossed his path. Then, he stood back up and took a look around. Apart from the big pile of dead bodies, there were big computers, big screens, and big windows that allowed you to see into space. He closed his eyes again, and he clearly felt the Jedi Weaponmaster's presence in the ship. He wasn't on the Bridge, where Dorma had expected him to be. Instead, he was much closer. And Dorma felt him approach. Normally the prey would run and the hunter track it, but this time, it was the other way round. Nonetheless, Dorma was impressed by the Jedi's valour. There weren't many people in the galaxy that dared to walk into a fight with him. Because it meant certain death._

_Daego was so close now, that Dorma could hear the footsteps in front of him, and out of one of the corridors, stepped the Weaponmaster. The Marauder was amazed by his appearance. He was tall, handsome and he had something about him that struck the young Sith. A certain kind of serenity and fearlessness he had never felt before. The Sith shivered as he heard the warm, caring voice of the man._

"_Darth Dorma," he said. "We finally meet."_

"_Finally?" the Sith answered with a tone that sounded more confident than he actually was. "It almost sounds like you've been looking forward to this moment."_

"_Yes," was the Jedi's simple reply, and Dorma was surprised by the honesty he felt in the man's words. "I've been looking forward to this moment because now I can finally put a stop to your terror."_

_The Sith grinned. He liked this man, and he felt almost sorry for having to kill him._

"_My terror?" Dorma replied. "Oh, Master Daego, you haven't seen anything yet!" he screamed and he unleashed a Force Storm so powerful that he was confident it would blow the Jedi off his feet, and possibly even kill him. But the Jedi simply put his hand forward and absorbed the electricity with his bare hands. It disappeared into a lightning globe that was formed in the palm of the Jedi's right hand. Daego sighed._

"_I thought you'd do that. Reading the emotions of Sith is like reading a datapad. You can't surprise me, let alone catch me off guard. Nor can you hurt me. At least, not with little tricks like that."_

_'Little tricks?' Dorma was humiliated and he fumed with anger at the comment. He had killed entire legions, battalions, armies with this 'little trick'. _

"_Your disrespect knows no boundaries, Daego," the Marauder yelled. "You shall soon know the full power of the dark side!" and he concentrated so deeply that he thought his eyes would fall out of its sockets. He was freezing the air around the Jedi, using the Force, and was trying to get him into a solid frozen state. But as the air around him itself started to liquefy, the Weaponmaster evaporated it just as quickly, and he seemed to be unaffected by the immense coldness. Dorma did not understand. He had killed a lot of people with this, freezing their bodies and crumbling them down. _

"_I know about your tricks, Dorma," the Jedi said, clearly unimpressed. "They can't hurt me, and you know it."_

"_Fine, then," Dorma replied, and he waved his long, black robe to the side with his right hand. He force-pulled his red longsabre into his left hand, and activated it by pushing the activate-button with the Force. "My tricks might not affect me," the Sith continued, "but I think you'll be more impressed with my sabre technique... When I cut you down!"_

"_Darth Dorma, it will be my pleasure," the man replied, and he grinned. Dorma could not believe the confidence the Jedi displayed. Daego reached for the two lightsabres swinging at his belt and he activated them. Two blue flashes shone so brightly they blinded Dorma. But he didn't care. He didn't need his eyes. He just needed his senses. But those suddenly got distorted as well. He was blind in every meaning of the word, and he was more afraid than he had ever been. His eyesight came back just in time to avoid a blue slice that was headed his way. He rolled backwards, and saw the Weaponmaster smiling._

"_Why are you afraid?" he asked._

"_And why aren't you?" Dorma replied._

_The Sith charged at his foe, and he swung in his sabre low. Daego blocked it with his right hand sabre, and launched an attack at the exact same time with his left. Dorma sidestepped to the left, he avoided Daego's attack, and he lunged at the Jedi's right shoulder. The Master ducked it though, and swung a low left-handed sabre at Dorma's knees. The Marauder jumped over them, and Daego got back to his feet by using the speed and movement of his earlier swing. They stood back in front of each other. Dorma admitted the Jedi was better than any other opponent he had ever faced, he could tell that from fighting him for only a couple of seconds. But he didn't care. He'd die, just like all the others._

"_Let's make some room in here," Dorma said, and with a Force Wave that Master Daego was unaffected by, he slammed the entire pile of bodies against the wall, making enough space for a battle between two small armies._

"_You're tiring yourself by doing that," the Weaponmaster said."Showing off won't help you win this duel."_

"_I don't need your advice," Dorma spat at him. And he charged forward again, swinging his blade of light in at an angle of 45-degree, aimed at the Jedi's neck. Daego blocked it with both his lightsabres, and the three blades crackled against each other. It was now a test of physical strength and the bigger man came out on top. He was pushing the blades dangerously close to Dorma's face, who feared he might get sliced in half by his own sabre; so he used the Force to put more strength behind his sword._

"_Very crafty," the Jedi said as he lost momentum. But he kicked against the Sith's knee, who collapsed to the ground. Daego swung in his left- and right-hand in turn, but they were both deflected, and Dorma used the Force to push Daego to the ground. It was the first time one of his Force powers had worked on him. Dorma got up as quickly as he could, and he looked for his opponent, but he was nowhere to be seen._

"_Where are you?" Dorma shouted forcefully. "Fight me!"_

"_To what end and purpose, lad?" he heard the Jedi's voice say. Dorma was totally confounded. The direction he heard the voice come from and the direction he sensed the Jedi was, were opposite._

"_So I can kill you!" Dorma shouted at the top of his voice, blinded by the rage he felt. He hated playing games like this._

"_I repeat my question. Calm down, boy," he said as he almost witnessed the youngster entering a Marauder's Fury._

_Surprisingly, Dorma felt himself calm down by the warmth of the Jedi Master's voice. His breathing calmed down, and his heartbeat got slower. The red colour in his face got paler, and he deactivated his lightsabre._

"_I need to kill you," he said, "so you stop meddling in our affairs. You're a threat to the Sith Empire. You have to go!"_

"_A threat? The Sith Empire as you call it, is the threat, boy. Can't you see that? Someone with your talents should have by now."_

"_We want to bring peace to the galaxy," Dorma said quietly._

"_How?" was the quick response. "By killing its inhabitants?"_

"_No," he replied. "Just the weaklings, so that we cure the galaxy and give it back its strength. The ultimate virtue."_

"_Strength isn't the ultimate virtue, Dorma. There are a lot of virtues. Valour, empathy, altruism, righteousness,... Strength is supplementary."_

"_Strength is what keeps you alive..." Dorma said, but he didn't sound as convinced as he should be._

"_Strength itself is also a weakness," Daego said, and he entered Dorma's sight again. "Because strength and your maniacal desire for it, denies you what many other people have. The unconditional caring and loving of another person. That, is the greatest feeling there is."_

"_Better than crushing an entire army with a swing of your arm?" Dorma said sceptically. "I don't think so."_

"_You do not know what empathy is, young Sith. Neither do you understand the fulfilment it can bring. And that is why you shall always be vulnerable. You let your emotions flow into the universe. We Jedi, absorb those of others, and make their worries our own. We live with other people, instead of butchering them. And that is why we can have a greater understanding of the Force than any other Sith."_

"_Jedi propaganda," Dorma spat._

"_I sense the good in you, young Dorma, and I can sense the potential inside you. If you were to be a Jedi, you would be a much better person than you are now. You shall know what it is to be loved instead of hated. You shall know how it is to be admired instead of feared. To be given life instead of taking it. To step into the light instead of toiling in the bottomless darkness."_

"_I... I can't," he hesitantly said. "You are wrong about me, Daego. I am not who you think I am. I am no mere Jedi. I'm a Sith."_

"_That's not something to be proud of," he said while raising his eyebrows. "Sith are cannibals. They kill each other. Sith weaken each other and themselves in their search for strength. Can't you see the paradox in that, my boy?"_

"_I made a commitment. I can't start all over..." Dorma felt a tear roll down his left cheek. Daego smiled sympathetically._

"_I know you have been trained to let go of your conscience, but deep inside, you feel it is not right what you're doing. Your tears are proof of this."_

"_I know, but... I'm sorry," he said and he reactivated his lightsabre. He held the red flash of energy in front of him and said: "I have to do this."_

"_So be it," the Jedi responded with a disappointed sigh. "If this is the way it has to be..." And he too reactivated his two lightsabres._

_Dorma ran towards his adversary, and he purposely fell down. He slid underneath the surprised Jedi's legs, and aimed for his calf. But the man jumped up lithely and the sabre missed its target. Daego turned around and did a lightsabre-throw with his off-hand sword. Dorma deflected it, and Master Daego pulled it back. He formed a big 'X' with his hilts, and he hacked it at the youngster. He formed a diagonal barrier in front of him and sidestepped, aiming for the Jedi Master's arm. His slice was blocked though, because Daego was holding his sabre behind his back. He turned his other sabre upside down, and he lunged it at the boy behind him. Dorma barely survived, by rolling in the other direction on pure instinct. The Marauder whipped up, and he charged at the Weaponmaster. Daego bent over, dodged the red lightsabre, and with a firm hip-toss, threw his opponent to the ground. He held the two lightsabres over his throat, as a pair of scissors. _

"_Do you know why you lost?" Daego asked calmly._

"_You're too fast," the Sith panted._

"_Wrong," was the response. "I won, because my head was clear. Yours was so full of ongoing stuff, emotions mostly, that it was easy for me to surprise you, distract you, catch you off guard. You need to let go of your dark emotions, and learn how to use your mind properly."_

"_You're wrong, hate gives me focus! And why are you telling me this anyway?" Dorma said. "I lost, it's over for me. Come on, kill me."_

"_No."_

"_You're going to regret it," Dorma said. "The day I run you through with my longsabre, you will regret this moment."_

"_I don't think you want to, or even could, kill me, Dorma."_

"_Then what do you want from me, if you're not going to kill me?"_

"_Your cooperation. You can be the galaxy's saviour. All you need to do is trust me, and listen to the conflict in you. It is your only choice. Either I kill you now, or either Genocid or Jannays kills you for your failure."_

"_What about Darth Morlan, my... Master?"_

"_Don't you know?" Master Daego asked him, surprised the young man didn't hold knowledge of the event. "He's dead. Genocid killed him, and usurped his power. He has assumed the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith. There lies nothing more for you on that side of the Force, lad. Trust me. Listen to your conscience. Listen to the conflict. Listen to your mind, and let the Force guide you to higher spheres."_

_Daego deactivated his lightsabres and the boy rose._

"_I think I know what it is you mean... Master," the boy said, as he knelt before Master Daego. He felt enlightened. It was a feeling he couldn't describe. His heart pace seemed to slow down. A pressure seemed to fall off his shoulders. Blood started to flow more freely. The grey edges on his eyesight disappeared._

"_You have set me free."_

Jaxxon opened his eyes. He felt his slow heartbeat in his chest. He could distinguish figures, he heard the rushing of his blood and he felt the touch of the cold, wet, muddy surface. He was alive!

He watched his surroundings carefully. They, for he saw a lot of people to his left, seemed to be stuck in a cage. He saw durasteel bars next to him. He slowly turned his head to the left. He could see the blue back and black-striped headtails of a Twi'Lek girl. She was sitting there, gazing into what seemed a solid, brick wall. Jaxxon rolled his eyes to the right, and he saw a lot, maybe 40 to 50, Mared.

He heard the Twi'Lek next to him turn around, and her gasp of amazement afterwards.

"He's awake!" she yelled so loud it almost made Jaxxon's ears go pop. The stumbling and the gathering of the crowd around his body didn't comfort him at all.

"Where am I?" he asked and the weakness of his voice when he asked the question startled him.

"You mean, where are 'we?'" she corrected him, in harmonious Galactic Basic.

"Yer in dem place wer gon' die in," an elder Mared, as far as Jaxxon's blurry eye vision could tell, replied. Also in Basic, be it a bit distorted.

"Oh, don't frighten him, Kieran!" twe Twi'Lek girl told the Mared off. "He's got enough problems already..."

The Mared let out a cynical snort, and he sat himself down on the cool, sandy ground.

"'E looks terrible ter me," Kieran said.

"So do you," the Twi'Lek said. "Now, boy, what's your name?"

"Eh..." Jaxxon said, not knowing whether to lie to these people or tell them the truth. After all, it was possible they didn't really like Jedi, especially since the Jedi Order didn't do much to prevent the Shelee's coup d'état. But Jedi or not, telling his real name couldn't do any significant harm.

"Jaxxon," he tried to say forcefully, but it wasn't more than a whisper.

"What? Jacen?" on of the Mared tried, misunderstanding.

"No, it's Jaxxon," Kieren said. "Ye have dem eyes of a Mared, Lts'Naan, but dem ears of a human," he said as an insult to the bloke.

"Anyway, Jaxxon," the Twi'Lek girl said, cutting off the elder Mared, "you asked where we were. And although Kieran's answer was rude and inappropriate, he was frightfully close to the truth."

"Then where..." Jaxxon started, but the Twi'Lek girl laid her soft index finger over his lips to shut him up. She shushed.

"Best not to talk too much. Let me finish."

Jaxxon slowly nodded.

"We are slaves, my friend."

Jaxxon's eyes grew larger in shock and amazement. Slaves? That was something he hadn't expected. Although it beat death...

The Twi'Lek girl apparently saw the amazement in his eyes, and managed to pull off a grim smile.

"Condemned to death, for being what we are. Mind you, not all Mared are condemned to death. Just the ones that aren't able of servitude. The elder ones, like Kieran here, the handicapped, like Ju'Spaha there," she said while pointing at a Mared that had lost the two lower parts of his arm and his right eye, "and of course the aliens, like you and me..."

Jaxxon wondered. He had absolutely no idea how he had gotten here. Last thing he remembered, was a sword being stuck in his belly. Which reminded him of something... His injuries!

Jaxxon tried to look up, but the pain coming from his abs was incredible. He screamed, but the noise was dampened by the rawness of his throat. The Twi'Lek girl put a delicate hand to his chest, and gently pushed him back down.

"Don't move, unless you want to kill yourself," she said. "Your injuries are quite severe, and I think it's a miracle you survived in the first place."

Jaxxon secretly moved his hand to the wound. The attention around him had faded, so nobody would notice. He laid a force-distraction upon the Twi'Lek to make her look the other way. The wound had infected, and he felt a soggy cover of pus laying over the it. Some of it came off on his fingers, and he was disgusted by it. It hurt a lot. The touch didn't last much longer than a semi-second. He knew he could heal himself to a large extent, but he didn't want to reveal his Jedi-status. Not yet. First he had to get to know these people some more. But the pain was too much to bare. So he concentrated, and he healed the ripped inner organs, an invisible injury, so he would at least not be in too much pain.

The Twi'Lek turned around again, as the distraction faded.

"What's your name?" Jaxxon asked.

"Lara," she answered. "And keep silent, damn it!"

"Water," Jaxxon mumbled, suddenly realising his unbelievable thirst and hunger.

"Water?" the elder Mared Kieran suddenly intervened, bowing over the Padawan's injured body. "What do ye need water fer, mate? There ain't no water here. We Mared don' drink dat stuff."

Jaxxon sighed, which he wished he hadn't done, because he felt a painful sting in his lower body following it up. No water. Great. And no real edible food for him either, probably.

"You really have the subtlety of a rampaging rancor, haven't you?" Lara responded, annoyed with Kieran's comments. "No, Jaxxon, it's true there is little water to spare here. But there are a lot of juma plants, from which the extract is used in the all too familiar 'juma juice'. Here, you can have some of it. I managed to pull out a few juma plants from out of our cell." She grabbed a little bag that seemed to contain a liquid. She gently cupped Jaxxon's head with her left hand, and poured the bright yellow extract in his desirous mouth. It was surprisingly refreshing, and it tasted a bit sweet. His throat was wetted again, and his salivary glands started functioning back to normal.

"Thanks," he whispered with a less husky voice.

"No use, ye'll be dead termorrow anyways," Kieran said with a loud voice.

"Right!!" Lara shouted while jumping up from her crouched position, and she stood in front of the Mared, with a malicious 'V' carved between her eyebrows. "Will you stop frightening him?"

"It's the truth, innit?" Kieran responded. "When were ye gonna tell the lad? When 'e's bein' thrown into dem ring?"

"What does he mean?" Jaxxon inquired, not knowing what to think of it. "I already know we're condemned to death, but what's more to it?" He wanted to keep on speaking, but his throat ached again, so he stopped.

"Tell 'im, Lara," Kieran said. "It's fer the best."

Lara sighed, and popped down on the ground. A small cloud of dry sand wove up, and was blown into Jaxxon's eyes by the movement. It irritated him to no end.

"Oh, sorry," Lara said, and she wiped most of it away with the back of her right hand. Once again, Jaxxon was surprised by how soft her touch was. "Well, then. I guess Kieran's right, there's no point in shielding you from it." She looked away, to avoid Jaxxon's look. "We are not just going to be executed. We are going to be... entertainers."

Jaxxon frowned. What was so bad about that?

"What do you mean, do we have to juggle in front of Zeborah, and risk getting shot when we drop a ball?" Jaxxon tried in desperate attempt of a joke, but he soon wished he hadn't done that. He chuckled, but felt the vibroblade in his gut once again as the left part of his abs tightened. He stopped almost as quickly as he had begun.

Lara didn't find it amusing, but he saw Kieran grin.

"The lil' rascal's got spirit," the Mared said. "But as much as I'd wish ye were correct, mate, for I'm a truly exceptionally skilled juggler, ye'r far from the truth. Wer gon' be sent into dem arena. Time and time again. To fight the worst scum of the Shelee race, dem misfits, dem scoundrels, dem bandits, pirates, smugglers, all criminals in short, who've been promised freedom upon their survival in dem bloodclot arena. We'll be sent in there, until we die. And that'll be sooner rather than later, me fears."

Jaxxon's heart was pounding. Not per se with fear, but with excitement. He was one of the greatest fighters in the galaxy, he knew that. Perhaps he stood a decent fighting chance. But... He was badly injured of course. He didn't even know if he could stand up, let alone fight. Certainly not when he wanted to keep his ability to wield the Force hidden for as long as possible.

"I want to try to stand up," Jaxxon said determined.

"Certainly not," Lara argued. "In your condition you..."

"Oh, shut the hell up, Lara, don' be so damn overprotective of tha kid," Kieran said. "Let'm see if 'e can stand up on his own two feet, let'm gain some confidence."

Lara kept silent, but turned away from both men. She apparently felt a little bit embarrassed. She walked off muttering something that Jaxxon believed to be insult.

"Fuckin' Twi'Leks," Kieran said, not doing any real effort to dim his voice. "Either they're treatin' ye like a mite, or they make ye feel bad 'bout bein' who ye are."

Jaxxon grinned. He rather liked this guy. He reached out his hand to the Mared, who grasped it with his long Mared-hand. He clenched his even longer fingers around Jaxxon's wrist, and slowly started pulling him up. The pain was almost unbearable, even after the little healing procedure Jaxxon had secretly executed on himself. But he kept on going, and sat up straight.

"That's a start," Kieran said with a bright smile. "Let's see if ye can stand on yer paws. If yer gon' be a gladiator, ye should be ready. So... Ready?" he asked while peering at Jaxxon with the typical tiny pupils that were inherent to the Mared-species. The Padawan slowly nodded, and Kieran pulled him up. His left leg he could balance on, but his right leg, which was still badly damaged, was unable to take any pressure whatsoever.

"One leg's better than none," Kieran moderated. "I jus' hope ye have some hidden talent fer fightin' wiv a vibroblade."

Jaxxon had to stop a grin coming up. The Mared had no idea...

Darth Genocid was in an awful good mood. His plans had worked extremely well. The Mared were enslaved, the Shelee had no idea what was coming for them, and most importantly: he had heard reports Dorma died while fleeing with the ambassador. Ts'Lukis' escape was the only minor inconvenience. The Jedi had the foolish belief the political mumblings of one Mared could save their entire species. They were wrong. It was not enough to stop the Sith Armada he had unleashed upon Beneris. And before that pitiful Jedi Council would move their asses, his grip on Beneris would be so tight they could do him no more harm. He thought sending Daego and Dorma to Beneris was wild, for the Council's doing. He had, of course, laid a perfect trap for them both. And it had had its effect.

The Dark Lord of the Sith turned around, and he saw three officers standing in attention. Their grey uniforms were as inconspicuous as their white faces were striking. It was apparent none of them had seen much daylight in their controlled lives. Genocid stroked his stubbly beard with his right-hand fingertips and rested his tired head on them. The invasion had demanded a lot of energy, and he was worn out. But he still had some important things to do. No doubt the three officers were here to tell him his shuttle had arrived.

"My Lord," the one on the left began, but he was cut off by the Sith Lord, who raised a hand.

"Yes, I know," he replied. And without granting them another look, he made his way towards the shuttle docks. Currently, he was on a capital ship that circled the conquered planet. He had arranged a meeting with Zeborah and Mopaka, the two famous leaders of the Shelee, with whom he had struck a deal. He entered the shuttle his men had prepared for him. It was more of a formality than a necessity to have a private pilot. He had always been an excellent one, but things like these distinguished him from the ordinary soldier. That, and being probably the most influential man, let alone Mandalorian, in the galaxy. He wasn't Mandalore though. The title died along with the unity of his species. They were no longer the threatening people that once brought the Republic on the verge of collapse, although Mandalorians still individually raised their children by the way of the sword and blaster. He reflected further upon his people's history as the shuttle made its way towards Sheleepolis. And upon his landing, he mused about the Mandalorian Wars a couple of hundred years ago. It was the definite highlight of his species, one that sent forth a powerful message to Republic Space. But when they were beaten, and when Mandalore Ordo, accomplice of the now notorious Jedi Exile, died, the unity faded away and the once proud and powerful warriors became thugs, mercenary scum, outcasts, rejects,... It was something he had always regretted when reading a datapad about Mandalorian history. Before he had killed Darth Morlan, he always contemplated about reuniting the scattered Mandalorian Clans. But he had other responsibilities now. And he didn't really know if the Mandalorians in general were worthy of his leadership, after fading away from the front page of the galaxy twice.

"We've arrived, Lord Genocid," he heard the pilot say. He looked up, and peered through the small window. Sheleepolis was a dump, in his eyes. It was nothing compared to the towering buildings on Coruscant, the mystical caves and enclaves on Dantooine, the endless sea and Selkath settlements on Manaan, the colossal Kashyykian forests or the sparkling beauty of the Onderon capital. Still, there was money, big money, to be made here. And even the Sith needed that. Money meant manpower. And no matter how much individual power he possessed, without a force behind him that could crush the Republic Army under its heel, all the strength he pursued, all the plans of galactic domination he had bred on, were useless. It was a vision not many Sith would agree with, but Darth Genocid always wanted the full package. He considered power not only to be something you have as an individual over your own capacities, but also the control you had over other people, planets, star systems,... It was his dream to unite the galaxy, under the Sith flag. To kill the Jedi, and let the dark side prevail once again. And this time, no lone man could stop him. Not after the money he'd make with the selling of enslaved Mared. If everything went according to plan, he'd have a force so unstoppable even Darth Revan himself would shiver out of his boots.

He stepped out of the shuttle, and was immediately greeted by some Shelee asslickers, who constantly praised him as he made his way towards the meeting with his two accomplices. It seriously bored and annoyed him, certainly because he found the Shelee repulsive creatures. He didn't need their approval. But at least they had a vision. Shame they wouldn't be around to see it.

He took a little bit of time to sense the others. He felt nervousness. Fear. Anxiety. The Shelee in general were in a fluster. And he felt the suspense rise in every body he walked by. It made him feel good. Important. Dangerous. They were right to fear him; they wouldn't be taken by surprise. Genocid knew this. And he wouldn't have it any other way. He took little pride or joy in crushing an unsuspecting opponent. Something he undoubtedly inherited from his Mandalorian ancestors.

He finally stood in front of the door that concealed the two legendary Shelee. They were old. Very old. And undisputed leaders of their species. That was something he had to respect. The doors opened. He entered.

"Lord Genocid," Zeborah said. "Please, do come in." Genocid stood still in the doorway. Never before had he seen such ugliness gathered in one creature, Hutts included. Shelee weren't very attractive by nature, but next to these two, the others almost seemed handsome. Their skin was as rough as a walnut, and their entire body seemed to consist of wrinkles. Not an inch of smooth skin could be found on their limbs. Their four lips were shrivelled and a long, withered tongue hung out of their toothless mouths. The usual broad shoulders that characterized the Shelee, drooped down like a pair of tired trunks, and their triangle-shaped upper body now more resembled a square with the corners being cut off. Genocid hesitated to advance, but not for more than a split-second. He walked in, and without receiving the invitation to, he sat himself down. Shelee considered this rude, and he saw it on the old men's faces they disapproved. But he didn't care. It was he who played the game. He made the rules. Not the other way round. And their usefulness would soon run out anyway.

"So," Genocid began with his raw, gruff voice, "let's talk business."

"The business," Mopaka said with a voice that sounded like two vibroswords clashing, "is simple. We let you in on the slave trade, we get full control over Beneris."

Genocid grinned. Ante up...

"Well, you know, I've been thinking," he said. "I'm not really comfortable with you people gaining full control over Beneris. It's conquered by the Sith. If it is to be a member of my Empire, and enjoy our protection, I will have to make sure you are loyal to me."

"That was not the deal," Zeborah intervened, who would have gritted his teeth if he had any left.

"Perhaps you feel you are being treated unfairly?" Genocid said, while caressing his lightsabre hilt with gentle touches of his left index finger. It was an excellent way of intimidating an adversary. It had its effect. The two Shelee remained silent, and looked at each other with a look of desperation. Darth Genocid could feel the angst rise, and he enjoyed it to no end.

"We..." Mopaka began, but he didn't continue. He just stared at the ground.

"What is it you want, then?" Zeborah said, helping his lifelong friend out.

"Just that. Strict supervision over your actions. And the power of veto. Plus, the power to induce new laws I see fit. Oh, and martial law as well of course. That goes for all planets under Sith control."

"Sith control," Mopaka muttered in indignation. "You're not holding your end of the deal. You promised us full control over Beneris."

"Yes," Genocid said, "but Beneris is too unstable to leave it unmonitored."

"How dare you!" Zeborah began, raising his voice for the first time. "You barge in here, start making demands, threatening us, seeking to intimidate us..."

Genocid smiled as the old Shelee continued his rant. He let him. He had expected it, but he had to confess the old Shelee had a lot more spirit in him than he had expected.

"Either way," Genocid stated when Zeborah had calmed down, "if you want Beneris and the Sith Empire to converge, or even be on friendly terms, these are the rules you have to follow. Do not forget, old fools, I have an entire fleet above your heads that can bomb your precious cities to this worthless ground."

That seemed to have its effect. The Shelee remained silent. They just nodded slowly, as if they acknowledged their defeat. They were great warriors once, and they knew they couldn't win if the Sith assaulted them.

"Very well," Zeborah said after sighing deeply. "It will happen."

"I knew we'd come to an agreement," Genocid said while standing up, again without an invitation.

"My Lord Genocid," Mopaka said. "The day after tomorrow we will hold planetwide celebrations to rejoice ourselves in the end of the Mared's existence as a major species. You are, of course, invited to come and witness the grandeur of the opening games that will be held."

Genocid nodded. He was disappointed. He had hoped for a non-invitation. He didn't greet the two as he walked out the door.

Next Chapter: Kieran and Jaxxon familiarize; Zorn and Maela get briefed by Master Kraenos

P.S.: Many thanks go out to my three loyal reviewers: Arrianos, Promised Flower and almostinsane. You've made the effort worth it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09: Those who are about to die...**

"So," Jaxxon said as he sat with his back against the brick wall. He had secretly been speeding up his healing process, but not to such an extent it aroused suspicion with the others. "What's your story, Kieran?" he asked the Mared that had been sort of watching over him ever since he woke up.

"Me story?" Kieran wondered. "Nobody's ever ass'ed me 'bout that, mate. But there's much to tell, and I don' wanna bore you in the final hours of your life."

"Oh, come on," Jaxxon insisted. "You're a Mared that speaks Galactic Basic, how can I not be interested in what you have to say? Because apart from Lara, you're the only one who I can talk to."

Kieran sighed. He rubbed the middle part of his left arm and looked at the Padawan.

"Aight, then, if yer sure 'bout it. The I'll tell you summin' 'bout me."

"Great!" Jaxxon enthusiastically said, and he straightened up.

"First off, I's is not as old as ye might think. I know I looks weary, drained an' empty, but dat's just appearance. I's is only forty years of age, to dem humans that'd be somethin' like in your fifties. When I was born, my family was poverty-stricken. I don' remember much 'bout ma first years of life on Beneris, but we soon made our way off the planet. Me dad wanted to see the galaxy, so we moved to dem Coruscant planet. When I's was sixteen years old, ma mom was raped and killed. Coruscant didn't really help us, and neither did dem Jedi, who never did any effort to find those who assaulted my mother.

Soon after, my dad left me on Coruscant. He still wanned to see dem entire galaxy, but he couldn' do that if he had to provide for summin' else, seen? So, unemployed, the I signed up for dem Army of tha Republic."

"What? You were a soldier?" Jaxxon asked. He was amazed by the Mared's story so far.

"You's right," Kieran replied.

"But you're from Beneris, you're not even part of the Republic. I thought only..."

"No ma man, those were dem troubled times I says. Dem Republic enlisted everybody who they cud get them hands on. And da army is where I learnt both ma trade and ma Galactic Basic. I first woz placed in onna dem battalions full of Rastonians."

"That's one crazy dialect, indeed," Jaxxon said, and tried to repress an upcoming grin.

"I quickly was onna dem best swordfighters of me battalion," Kieran continued. "I's is thinking dat wiv some luck the I might yet survive dis war, star."

Jaxxon wondered. This Mared had more than met the eye. He seemed old and weak, but the pride and power the Padawan felt when he told him his story were remarkable. As his Master sometimes said: _"Powerful allies can be found in even the most surprising of places." _Jaxxon seemed to have found one.

"So," Jaxxon observed, "you haven't given up hope yet?"

"Is hard to have any hope left inna dem places like dis. But I's is tryin'. Hope neva hu'ts. Overconfidence, yes. Hope? Neva. Pe'haps dem Jedi Council will come'n save us lot. Or pe'haps we Mared manage to successfully revolt. I's doesn't know, my man. But as for the I, me will be free again, or die tryin'." Kieran drew a small picture of a Twi'lek in the sand with his long fingers, and Jaxxon did not only notice the saddened look on his face, but also the Mared's sense of humour being deprived of him when thinking about freedom. Jaxxon admired, respected and pitied his new and curious friend. And he made a promise to himself. He would get them out of here. No matter what. Playing time was over.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Maela smiled at Zorn when they both walked to the briefing room.

"More like... having the collywobbles," Zorn replied. Probably the most important mission in his life was about to begin, and it didn't seem an easy task.

"Oh, loosen your arse a bit, for Revan's sake!" Maela said and she gave him a slight poke on the shoulder. "Why is it that everybody thinks you're going to do great except for yourself? Look at what you did on Tatooine!"

"That was mostly Zaeyn's work," Zorn responded. "Who, by the way, has come to laugh at me yesterday about the difficulty of my trials. He said they were one of the most difficult trials he has ever heard of."

"Don't let him irritate you like that," Maela said while shaking her head. "It's a shame you two don't get along better but he remains your big brother. He can guide you. You told me you learned a lot from him on Tatooine. Just convert his theory into practice. And let him be the big asshole we all know him to be, just don't take over his personality traits, okay?" Maela added, smiling. She instinctively wanted to pat Zorn's head, but she retracted her hand when she saw the dangerously looking headspikes curve their way into an extremely sharp point.

"Ugh, yet again we're talking about him! Why can't we just talk about trivial stuff? Like: 'Hey, Maela, the weather is nice isn't it?' 'Yes, Zorn, it certainly is, although it was a bit chilly when I went for my morning jog.' I'd break the Code if I could have a conversation like that!"

"Ssshh," Maela said, while laying her index finger over her touted lips. She slowly pointed at the door they were heading for. She took Zorn by his robes and pulled him down after which she crouched as well. They saw Master Kraenos talking to Zorn's elder brother.

"Why are we eavesdropping?" Zorn whispered.

"It's fun," was her reply.

"Really Zaeyn, there is no need to make a fuss about it, it's just that..."

"No, Master, there _is_! Why does he, my little brother of all people, get this impossible assignment? It's almost as if you want him to fail his trials!"

The Zabrak towered with upper body, head and shoulders over his superior, but Master Kraenos kept his cool. As always.

"That's utter nonsense, why on Coruscant would I want my own Padawan to fail his trials?"

"Maela had to solve a murder in a tavern, Lupo had to trace a lost artifact, Pijah had to tail and give away a small-time gangster. But you're sending Zorn to prevent a small civil war? On Malastare, that Dug-infected dump of all places? Of all the Padawans that recently earned the rank of Knight, none had a task as difficult as the one you have laid upon him."

"Zaeyn," Master Kraenos said, raising his voice, "it is not your place to question me. I'm sending Zorn to Malastare because I think he can fix this. And Maela is with him."

"Oh, yeah, Maela," Zaeyn said, adding a disdainful snort to his sentence. "Good fighter, but easy to break. Too easy. Plus, I don't think she can look after him properly. She doesn't take this seriously enough."

"It was Zorn's own choice. And next to that, Zorn is perfectly capable of defending himself."

"Yes, when zigzagging through a fleet of Sith fighters at 1.8 times lightspeed in my freighter. But on the ground, he's much more vulnerable. I don't like this one bit, Master."

"The decision has already been made, Zaeyn," Maser Kraenos said, as conclusion. "It's final. He and Maela are going to Malastare."

Zaeyn took a deep breath. Not out of tiredness, but out of irritation. He narrowed his eyes, and held a huge finger in Master Kraenos' direction.

"If something happens to him," he spoke slowly, after which he squeezed his own lips. And he abruptly turned around.

Master Kraenos sighed and shook his head.

"You can come out now," he said with a clear voice as soon as Zaeyn was out of hearing range. "You don't have to sneak up on me."

Embarrassed, both Zorn and Maela rose to their feet, and walked towards Master Kraenos like two children who got caught trying to steal a candy.

"We didn't mean to..." Zorn began, but he was cut off.

"Of course you did. The two of you, Maela especially, always were too curious for your own good. But I guess it doesn't hurt to know that your brother cares about you..."

Master Kraenos' mind wandered, and Maela and Zorn looked at each other, too afraid and abashed to speak, but uneasy with the silence.

"Let's get inside," the Jedi Master said, and the doors opened. The three Jedi sat themselves down on some sort of hardened pouf.

"So, both of you," Master Kraenos began, "I can feel a bit of nervousness in your young minds. I guess that's normal but I'm not sure whether you should be."

"I'm not so sure, Master," Zorn replied. "Zaeyn told me it was a difficult task."

"That's why I picked you for the job. And together with your friend Maela, you will have no problem solving this issue whatsoever."

Zorn was still unsure but then again, who was he to doubt his Master? He nodded.

"So," Master Kraenos said, "tell me... What do you know about Malastare?"

"They're members of the Republic. It's inhabited by Gran and Dugs," Zorn remembered. "But that's about it."

"That's the essence of what you need to know about the planet," Master Kraenos stated while nodding slightly. "Currently, the two main species live in relative peace, even with their past... rumblings. But they're too afraid to risk their position in the Senate to start another civil war, like 5000 years ago."

"Then what do we have to do?" Zorn asked. "It sounded like a grave situation when you first told me."

"Yes, and it is," the Watchman affirmed. "In the northern provinces of the planet lie many methane lakes, which the Gran exploit. It's a major trade advantage they have over the Dug, who are the providers of entertainment throughout the planet."

"Seems pretty balanced to me," Maela observed.

"Too balanced," Master Kraenos added.

"I don't understand," the Jedi Knight replied.

"Well, normally on a planet there are interracial tensions, but on Malastare it's the other way round. They're so extremely well-balanced that some Gran actually start to seek trouble with those of their own species. Up until now only humans tended to do that. This disrupting of the Gran-unity worries me, therefore I need this solved as quickly as possible."

"That's where we come in, I guess?" Zorn remarked, as he leaned slightly backwards.

"Got that right," Master Kraenos said. "This dispute is big. Real big. Two brothers, Alaya Rayaan and Aldera Rayaan, are fighting over the land their deceased father has left to them. The reason they're making such a fuss about it, is because their father was the owner of some of the biggest methane lakes on Malastare. Which means he was rich. Extremely rich."

Zorn sighed. Money. He couldn't fathom the fact someone could actually betray his own brother for it.

"So your trials, my young Padawan, are to solve their dispute in a peaceful manner. Got that?"

"Absolutely, Master."

Outside of Master Kraenos' quarters, Zaeyn grinned.

That seems to be healing extremely well," Lara remarked as she gazed at Jaxxon's abdominal injury. Of course it did. Jaxxon had been speeding up the healing process ever since gaining consciousness. The pus was gone, the inner organs were almost completely healed and the skin was slowly growing back. There was only one problem: the itch.

"Don't fucking scratch it," Lara said when she slapped Jaxxon's hand away. The Padawan appreciated, perhaps even envied, these people for their uncivilized and unlimited way of speaking. He didn't hear a lot of cursing in the Jedi Temple, except for the odd insult his Master threw out.

"So, me man, tomorrow's da big day," Kieran said, a little bit too cheerful.

"What day?" Jaxxon asked.

"Our first fight," Lara said in the exact opposite way of Kieran. "It'll be live or die. And I don't hold much..."

"Ah well, even if us dies, we'll have had some of dem loads a fun," Kieran interrupted.

Next chapter: Darth Genocid and Jaxxon Dorma meet again; Master Daego's search for his Padawan starts off somewhat different than he had planned.

Editor's Notes: Short chapter, I know. It's sort of an interlude, really. Next chapter will be longer, action-packed and, I hope, funny (for those 'not-easily-offended').

Special thanks to: Arrianos, almostinsane, Elwin Ransom and last but not least: Promised Flower. I 'love' and appreciate my reviewers. I shall strive to continue to entertain you.

For the 'Beneris Conflict' Die-Hards: /bombaytv/index.php?modulesee&languk&code186087cbf50c612b5d20b3270fe984dc

And you shall see why this story is so great!


	10. Chapter 10

Hi. It's been a long time since the last update, but the tory is still alive.

Bad news today. My grandmother passed away. Poor woman. There are some hard days ahead of me...

Enjoy the chapter (and thank you, dear reviewers!)

**Chapter 10: Once a slave, always a Mared**

"Stupid piece of junk," Master Daego aggressively shouted out as he kicked the hull of the crashed and burned-out Sith-fighter. He laid his hands on his waist and looked at the little ship in which he had reached Beneris. He had taken extreme precautions. He had engaged the fighter's stealth mode, given the Sith the right code to pass the blockade and even concealed his Force-presence. Yet the Sith had discovered his true identity and dispatched a group of fighters to destroy him. But he had laid a Force Confusion upon their minds which caused them to take each other out. One of them still had managed to hit him a couple of times though. His right engine got blown up, and he crashed down on the planet below. Now he had almost nothing. No transportations, no clue of where he was, but what was even worse: no idea of where to start his search for his presumed-dead Padawan. Luckily he still had his three main assets: the Force and his two deadly lightsabres.

"No sense standing around," Master Daego thought by himself, and so he let his instincts pick out a direction for him. East. As good as any.

As he walked, he hummed a song from his childhood. One that his father always sang for him. It was about a boy, lost in a desert and threatened by wild animals. But the father came to the rescue. The Weaponmaster recalled the deepness and warmth of his father's voice as he put small Jenson Daego to bed. It always warmed his heart and helped him in times of trouble. Like now.

Jenson Daego stopped walking. He felt something in the east. A lot of activity. Enough for a settlement. He felt hundreds of souls, and most of them echoed pride and happiness. Some, however, resounded grief, anger and humiliation. It were two such opposite groupings it intrigued Master Daego. He decided to go and check the town out. It couldn't do him any harm.

He set a brisk pace and after about fifteen minutes he reached the borders of the town. It had dusty, sandy roads and cheap houses made of plasteel. The roads were empty. Master Daego sensed everybody had gone to the town square, so he went there as well. Upon his arrival, he saw a big stage. On stage, there stood a tall Shelee, holding a blaster pistol in his right hand and a datapad in his hand. The town square was packed with excited Shelee. Master Daego noticed they all had a pack of credits in their hands. Strange...

"My friends," the Shelee on the stage said in their grizzly language, "today is a big day. The Mared have been enslaved and we are free at last. Zeborah and Mopaka reign supreme at last!"

A loud cheer erupted from the mass and hands and arms flew into the air in a moment of rejoice. Master Daego shivered.

"And now, I am honoured to present you with... the first shipment of Mared slaves, all broken and submissive!"

10 large cages were brought forward and the Jedi immediately saw it. Mared were crammed in the cages, barely able to breathe. Most looked like they were starving. Some had effectively died already. Their cheeks had a crust of dried tears upon them and the large, sad Mared eyes were bloodshot or absent. Weals marked their bodies and some of them were mumbling incoherent talk. Those were probably the lucky ones. They had already gone insane and were oblivious to the pain and humiliation.

"Bidding starts at two credits per slave, beginning with this one right here," the slave-trader shouted, as his companions shoved forward a tiny Mared, bearing the marks of torture and his countenances etched with despair.

"Two credits right there, do I hear three? Yes, three, no! Four! Does someone offer five credits? No? Sold to the likeable fellow over there for four credits!"

The boy was grabbed by two other slave traders and presented to his new master, along with a detonation system linked to a detonator in the slave's body. It kept them from running away. The Mared willingly followed his purchaser as they walked off. The bidding went on and on, and as Master Daego watched it all, he felt so powerless and useless it made his blood boil. The compassion he felt for the Mared made him crazy.

The auction continued until every Mared was sold. The marketplace began to empty, and as some Shelee noticed him, a loud whisper erupted from the remaining crowd.

"A human," he heard some of them mumble, "what's he doing here?" Master Daego didn't like the attention, but he figured he could use it to his advantage. Shelee were cowards.

"Who are you and what is a human like you doing here?" one of the Shelee suddenly confronted the Jedi. It was the one who had organized the auction.

"Who wants to know?" he replied.

"I am the one asking the questions here, you filthy piece of slime!" the Shelee shouted. "I own this town! You respond to me!"

"Want me to answer with these?" Master Daego responded, and he took his two lightsabre hilts from his belt. He wasn't wearing any Jedi robes, just plain clothes, but lightsabres were a symbol that surpassed clothing. The Shelee shrunk back, and dropped to his knees.

"Forgive me, My Lord!" he shouted hysterically. "I did not know! I did not realize!"

Master Daego grinned. It was apparent they thought he was one of the Sith Lords, something that would undoubtedly benefit his immediate safety. And it was also obvious the Shelee feared the Sith. And they were right to do so.

"Anyone who questions me again, anyone who does something I do not like, anyone who disobeys the Sith-law, shall be killed! Do you understand me!?" he shouted. He didn't like threatening others, not even these slavers, but he had no other choice. All the surrounding Shelee remained silent.

"Good," Master Daego said and he focused his attention back to the auctioneer.

"On your feet," he said and the Shelee got up in less than a second.

"What's the name of this town?" he asked.

"Iqukejab," the Shelee stuttered. "It means 'Land of the Free' in our old language..."

"How ironic," Master Daego thought. "What's the shortest road to Sheleepolis?" he asked. "I have business there."

"You should head to the East. It's a couple of days with a regular speeder, a bit more than a week on foot. We live pretty desolate here. The only reason we were here so quickly with those slaves, was that we were able to lend a freighter there. I'm going back to Sheleepolis tomorrow."

"Why?" the Jedi inquired.

"To hand over the proceeds of the sales."

"You can give them to me," Master Daego said while putting his hand out. "I'll make sure they're delivered safely."

"But... I was told to hand them over personally in Sheleepolis."

"Give them to me, or you shall lose your hands altogether. Now!"

Somewhat reluctantly, he handed the Jedi a small bag. It was heavy as lead though and his arm almost gave way when he took it.

"One more thing," Master Daego said. "I need a communication device. One that can send holo-calls. Mine's broken."

"Certainly, my Lord!" the Shelee replied, and he motionedhim to follow. After a couple of minutes walking through the dusty roads, they arrived at a cantina. It looked filthy from the outside. They stepped inside, and Master Daego gagged at the stench in which the cantina almost seemed to be drenched. The insides were even worse than he had thought. But he had seen worse places than this. What disturbed him most, were the slaves. He remembered a couple of them from the auction. Apparently their current owner had wasted no time putting them to work. Some of them were serving drinks, others were cleaning. And judging by their revealing clothes and their rounded statures, those weren't the only jobs they were going to be forced to do. A table nearby mysteriously fell over as Master Daego clenched his fist. The auctioneer took him to the back, where a fat Shelee sat, along with his wife. Undoubtedly the owners and managers.

"Prrkts," the fat owner stuttered, the effort of moving his jaws causing him much trouble speaking normally, "what is this? You're bringing a human inside my private house?"

"Not a regular human, Mnnjk, but a Sith Lord!"

Mnnjk's mouth fell open. His wife's remained open, but her eyes got bigger.

"He wants to use your holo-transmitter," Prrkts said.

"Yes... Yes, certainly," Mnnjk replied, standing up. His wife followed his example. "Please forgive me, My Lord, I did not intend to..."

"Forget about it and get out of here," Master Daego said, and he made a gesture with his hand that signalled they had to move rapidly. They bounced away as quickly as they could, and Master Daego looked around him. It was a plasteel house, quite cheap. Lots of nice furniture though. And the fact they had a holo-transmitter indicated they were quite rich. He walked over to the communications device, and tapped on the touch-screen. He typed the number of the Jedi Temple, along with his personal authorization code. There probably wasn't a meeting going on, but with a little bit of luck, he could get a hold of some important Council members. While the connection was being laid, Master Daego wondered what he had to say to them. He couldn't really think of something. But he didn't have no more time to consider. The small bodies of Master Kraenos, Kae, Ahas, Lumenos and Opiaf popped up on the screen as holograms.

"Jenson, finally!" Master Kraenos said, sounding overly worried. "What took you so long?"

"I got shot down, but I'm okay. My communicator was broken in the process though, and I'm momentarily in a desolate village a couple of days away from Sheleepolis."

"Status report on your mission?" Master Lumenos asked, straight to the point as always.

"Well, the enslaved Mared here seem to have lost their fire after all the misery they've been through lately. They have to live in appalling conditions and have to do the worst jobs imaginable. They're being treated like... well, slaves! But I think I can rekindle their fighting spirit. All they need is a well-placed ember."

"What exactly is your intention in the near future, Jenson?" Master Kae friendly asked.

"Well, I need to get to Sheleepolis of course, to find a trace of Jaxxon. But I can't just leave these people to their fate. It's unbearable. I'm going to find a way to free them."

"Just be careful, Jenson," Master Kraenos observed. "I sense anger in you. I can feel it from here. That's very unusual. Keep those feelings hidden. Better even: cut them out. If I can feel them, so can Genocid. Which also means he can find out where you are."

"Yes, Master," Master Daego nodded.

"How do you plan on freeing the slaves?" Master Ahas curiously asked.

"It's impossible to release them without killing some, if not all Shelee," Master Opiaf snorted.

"They're all going to be dead soon anyway," Master Lumenos replied to the remark of his colleague.

"Yes, at least this puts the Mared in safety," Master Kae added. "That's one step further at least."

"Do they know what's coming to them?" Master Kraenos canvassed.

"No, Master, they don't. They do fear the Sith though. I've told them I belonged with the Sith and all of a sudden they started crawling before my feet. It's remarkable."

"You should try to free those Mared of course, but can't you try to convince the Shelee of the truth?" Master Opiaf asked. "I've said this before: they deserve to know what's in store for them. If you can get the Shelee on your side, freeing the Mared will be as easy as putting on a robe."

"I agree," Master Ahas added.

"But Master, if I can't convince the Shelee, an even bigger massacre will come forth from it. Besides, there's a blood-feud between the two races. Right now I have the element of surprise. It's too big a risk to lose it."

"Then what do you suggest?" Master Kae asked.

"Stealth," was Master Daego's reply. "Pure and simple. If I'm lucky, I can free them without waking up more than a quarter of the town's population."

"That's fine with me," Master Kae replied. "Try to avoid as many casualties as you can. But get those Mared out. At all cost!"

"You heard it Jenson," Master Kraenos said. "Do what you have to. Try to report back to us tomorrow."

"Yes, Master," the Weaponmaster said. He bowed, and switched off the communicator. He erased every little detail about his message the device had saved onto its hard drive and walked out of the room.

"My Lord," Mnnjk immediately said as he came running towards the Jedi, bowing in such a way it couldn't have been comfortable. "Can I offer you anything? Something to drink perhaps? Or something to eat? Or... Or perhaps you would like to take a slave to your room and have your way with it? Normally, it's 50 credits, but for you, its completely free."

"Erm, no," he replied, barely resisting the temptation to knock the Shelee's block off. "Although... On the other hand, send your finest female slave to my quarters. I'm sure you know what I mean when I say 'finest', don't you?" He had a little plan. But it contained a lot of improvisation.

"Certainly, my Lord," Mnnjk replied and he added an ugly grin to his words.

"Show me where you keep your slaves during the night," Master Daego ordered.

"W... Why do you want to know?"

"Show me where you keep your slaves during the night," he repeated.

"Yes... Yes, certainly. Follow me."

The fat Shelee guided Master Daego to some downward steps that led to an underground room. It was heavily barricaded, but Master Daego was sure his lightsabres could cut through it.

"They are being kept here. Nothing will get through these gates, unless you have the authorization code." Mnnjk proudly stared at his prison. "Practically all other Shelee in this village store their Mared in underground chambers. But none of them are as fortified as mine," he added while straightening his shoulders even more. "All slaves shall be kept here, save the ones on duty. That means the slave assigned to you shall not be kept here tonight. Of course..."

Master Daego listened with sincere interest. The fool did not realize that in his pathetic attempt to show off, he was forging his own downfall.

"Very well then," the assumed Sith said. "Send your finest slave to my room at once. I'm sure we'll have lots of fun. And by the way, Mnnjk. For all the damage done to her, I shall pay you back a hundredfold."

"That's most generous of you, my Lord," the Shelee said while hurrying away. Master Daego wondered if it was the Shelee's greed or stupidity that prevented him from seeing the subliminal meaning behind his words. Either way, he didn't care. He shrugged, and went to the surprisingly comfortable room the Shelee had prepared for him.

He sat in a peculiar, fluffy chair when he heard a faint knock on the door. With a slight motion of his hand, the door slid open. In the opening stood a young, rather little Mared girl. She was quite pretty... for a Mared. Her mouth was tinier than that of most Mared, and her hair seemed to be made of silk. It barely reached her broad, defined shoulders. She stepped forward and Master Daego closed the door, still examining the girl from out of his seat. Even as he sat down, the slave was shorter than him. Her body, arms and legs were very much in proportion. The only thing about her that wasn't, were her breasts. Master Daego was taken aback by their roundness and perimeter and was astounded she didn't just fall over. And for a second, he hesitated. Why shouldn't he? She was completely at his mercy. Why not take her? Right here, right now. No one ever had to know. But... He couldn't do that. It wasn't right. It brought his missions in danger, so he just kept quiet and did nothing. He felt the tension rise in the room, and Master Daego began to sweat. He felt lust. And he knew that wasn't good. He needed some distraction. He stood up, and turned his back to her.

"Do you speak and understand Basic?" he asked after a couple seconds of silence.

"Y-Yes Mylord," she hesitantly said. Master Daego was impressed. She obviously had to come from a rich family, by Mared standards of course. Only they could afford a Galactic Basic teacher. Or perhaps she picked it up from a stranger, perhaps her lover was a deep-space pilot? But it was irrelevant. She spoke it, and that was the important part. It would smooth the coming conversation. He could also implement Galactic Basic into her brain, but that was a dark technique rarely used by Jedi. Only when it stood in the way of honest negotiations. He had used it only once before: when convincing a group of Trandoshan bounty-hunters to state the name of their employer.

"What's your name?"

"Mrr'Lija," she replied, her eyes peering at the ground.

"That's a good name. Means 'Wise Flower' in ancient Mareddian doesn't it?"

She nodded softly. Master Daego turned around. He felt sorry for the slave and wanted to comfort her a bit. But it was dangerous for him. He had already done some rather dodgy things: threatening others, stealing credits, pretending to be a Sith... Last thing he needed was this girl stirring up the emotions he had locked away right underneath his belt. So he continued to be friendly, but from a distance.

"Do you want to sit down?" he said, while pointing at the chair behind him.

The girl looked up, and her big eyes peered right at his.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. "Can't... Can't we just get this over with?"

"Look," Master Daego quickly intervened. "I don't want anything from you right now. I just want to talk. I have absolutely no intentions of violating you."

The Mared calmed down a bit, but the distrust remained.

"You can trust me. I am not who you think I am."

"Then who are you, if you're not a Sith-Lord coming to take advantage of a mortified slave?" Her voice trembled with fear and audacious mockery at the same time.

"My name is Jenson Daego. I'm here to rescue you."

'Rescue me?" was the reply. The Jedi felt the doubt in the Mared's mind come forward. She seemed confused, relieved, even... Grateful. But she remained wary nonetheless. "If this is some kind of test... I have no intention of fleeing."

"This is not a test. I am a Jedi. I've been sent by the Jedi Council to free the enslaved Mared," he explained, although it wasn't the exact truth. "I'm pretending to be a Sith, so I can gain the Shelee's trust and respect, which allows me to roam freely. I can get you and your companions out of here. But I shall require your aid."

"If what you say is true... Why not bust all slaves out of here?"

"I do not want to cause a battle. I want to do this as quiet and stealthy as possible. A couple of Shelee will have to die, but if at all possible, I want to avoid casualties."

The Mared girl snorted. "They should be lined up and shot, the lot of them. They've treated us like beasts. You have no idea what I had to do since I was enslaved. All I can say is... I'd rather die than fall that low again. So, whether you're an imposter or a righteous liberator, I shall be free again. Or die trying!"

Master Daego respected the courage in the girl's heart, but was concerned by her lust for revenge. It would certainly be of help, but he was unsure whether he could trust her to do what he had in mind. If her vengeful emotions got the better of her, she could easily embark on a doomed-to-fail assassination attempt of her master and ruin his plans, forsaking her life in the process. It was a gamble, and the Jedi was hesitant to lay his card upon the table. It was like being tied 19-19 in a game of Pazaak where the other player had just 'stood'. The chances of winning were small. He could easily dominate the girl's mind, of course. Make her a puppet of his will and have her do exactly what he wanted. In some situations there was no other safe solution. But he was afraid of what he would do if he found the Mared subject to his will. Her physical attractiveness didn't exactly help.

Master Daego sighed. "Why do all girls I work with have to be so hot?" he thought. "It's frustrating. Why can't all women be like Master Kae or something..."

"What should I do then, exactly?" was her question.

"Go downstairs, and get back into the storage room. Tell your master you did not meet my expectations and that I shall come down to punish you and pick a new slave for tonight. That's the easy part. Sit tight, and wait until I open up. It's possible Mnnjk is with me. If that's the case, I will personally disable him. Next, we go upstairs, and paralyse every Shelee we encounter, after..."

"How?" Wise Flower interrupted.

"Right, I forgot to tell you," Master Daego remembered and he reached in one of his pockets. He retrieved three Bothan Stun sticks. He showed them to the girl, who understood.

"A Jedi is never unprepared," she said with a faint smile.

"Quite right. Now, the stunned Shelee shall be thrown into the bunker where they are currently keeping you and the other slaves. We use this same method time and time again until every slave is freed. Got it?"

"Sounds easy. Too easy, if you ask me."

"What's wrong with easy?" Master Daego asked. "Not everything has to be ultra-complicated you know. Besides, the Shelee..."

"Aren't worth keeping alive. We should kill them now we have the chance."

"No, I will not allow that!" Master Daego forcefully said. "The Shelee are in graver danger than they realise. We shall take them out without any killing blows or you can forget about my help. Got that?"

Mrr'Lija reluctantly nodded, but it was enough to satisfy the Jedi Weaponmaster.

"Good. Now, you know what to do? Good. Then go. I shall be there shortly, so hurry up."

The Mared turned around, and confidently walked out of the room. Master Daego sat himself down, trying to ignore the swelling in his underpants.

"What a job!" Master Daego cried out, sitting himself down, burying his head in his hands. "And to think I could've been a wealthy farmer..."

"What's wrong, Master Sith?" Mnnjk asked, when Master Daego came walking down the stairs. "Did the pussy not meet your expectations?"

"Keep the filthy talk to yourself, will you? And besides that, you're right. She didn't." Master Daego peeked around the entrance hall. It was empty, save for one Shelee who was eating some kind of sticky goo. With a nod of the Force, Master Daego implemented a made-up appointment with the hairdresser in the Shelee's mind. This was quite a feat, as he was as bald as a Selkath's ass. It was all empty, now. Everybody had returned home or had gone to bed, be it with a slave or alone. Perfect.

"But... But... I'm sure we can work something out," the Shelee quickly said. "The slave you sent back told me you wanted to try another one. I can arrange that. I'm sure we'll find someone who can fulfil your... needs."

"I hope so, for your sake."

The Jedi followed the fat pimp down the stairs, to the underground chamber they had already been to. To his surprise, Jenson saw it was now guarded by two sturdy Shelee. He knew they wouldn't leave without a fight. But a challenge, they wouldn't be.

"So, this should do the trick," Mnnjk said as he entered the code. And the doors securing the slaves opened with a hissing sound.

"Thank you," Master Daego politely said. "Good night," he added, as he hit the fat Shelee with a well-placed right fist. He sent the two guards flying with a Force Push, and the durasteel walls did the rest.

"It's safe, you can come out now."

Slowly, Mrr'Lja and the other slaves stepped out of the shadows that filled their quarters. 9 Mared lined up before the Jedi Master.

"Right. I trust Mrr'Lja informed you about my plan? It's going to be simple. We go upstairs, and with a bit of mind manipulation, I will lure the Shelee into a trap. That trap will be three of you, holding a stun stick in your hands. When we paralyse a Shelee, we throw them in this container they kept you. Got it?"

The Mared all nodded, after Mrr'Lja translated it for them. It was a waste of time, but Master Daego didn't feel like implementing Basic into their minds.

"Okay... Here you go," he said as he handed out the Stun sticks. "You follow me, and you two," while pointing at the strongest looking Mared, "follow me as well. Mrr'Lja, you and the others stay here and guard the prisoners. And do not harm them!"

He said this last phrase with such power in his voice she didn't dare to resist or complain. He turned around, and walked up the stairs. In the main hall, Master Daego locked the entrance doors, preventing anybody from getting in or escaping. They continued to the bedrooms, and at the first door, they stopped.

Master Daego concentrated. He sensed one Shelee in the room, who was sleeping. Not for long. He woke the Shelee up by rolling him out of bed with the Force. He grinned as he heard a loud thud and a violent curse from inside the room. Now came the finishing touch... He used the Force to squeeze the Shelee's bladder. After a couple of seconds, he came out of the room, his hand firmly around his crotch. But he was met by three stun sticks: one to the jaw, one to the gut, and one to the knee. The Shelee fell down, and didn't move. But a wet patch started to grow from the place where he had been squeezing.

"Should've thought of that..." Master Daego observed. "But it doesn't matter. Take him away..."

They repeated the same procedure flawlessly until every Shelee, about thirty, were locked inside the chamber. They also recovered ten more slaves, making for a total of twenty.

"That went smoothly," Mrr'Lja remarked as all the Mared were enjoying a drink in the main hall.

"Yes, it did. But we have an entire town to recuperate. It's going to take a while before all the slaves are freed."

"Not if we take a more... aggressive stance."

"I am not going to help you commit murders. I'm still a Jedi, you know. I don't slaughter people so easily, even if I could. No, we're going to do this with stealth. Every house in this village will be dealt with exactly like how we did it in here."

"And where do we go from there?"

"Sheleepolis."

"Why?"

"I need to find someone. Someone who means a lot to me."

"Is it a Mared?"

"No."

"Your sweetheart?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Who is it, then?"

"The greatest warrior I know."

"Ya ready, rudeboy?" Kieran asked Jaxxon, who was scratching his wounds.

"Yes, but this damn itch is driving me crazy," the Padawan replied.

"Ye gon' get scratched all over soon, bredren, don' worry. Dem itch'll disappear, seen?"

"Yeah." Jaxxon sighed. They were being called to the ring. They had been transported to a room that had an exit into an arena. Outside, Jaxxon felt tens of thousands of mad Shelee screaming in enthusiasm. But what really gave him the shivers down his spine, was the presence of a dark signature in the Force he knew all too well: that of Darth Genocid. There was no doubt in his mind that he would recognize Jaxxon the moment they came out. Luckily, thanks to his Master's incredibly effective training, he was able to keep his own Force signature undetected from all but the most powerful Force users. Even though Genocid could detect him if he tried hard enough, Jaxxon knew that he hadn't the patience, nor the time to meditate on such things. The minds of a Sith, and the Dark Lord of the Sith in particular, were filled with other things. This, he knew for a fact. But in a couple of minutes, it'd be over. No more hiding...

"Today is a great day, Lord Genocid," Zeborah said from his leaning chair on the high balcony of the execution arena.

Darth Genocid, who was peering over the edge, looking at the mass of Shelee, shook his head. "Something isn't right. This is not how it is supposed to be..."

"What are you talking about?" Mopaka asked. "We've enslave the Mared with minimum resistance, and after this display of strength, we'll have the backing and support of every Shelee on the planet. They're broadcasting this worldwide, you know."

The Sith Lord grated his stubbly beard. "We'll see. We'll see..."

"It is time," Zeborah said, giving the trumpeters the sign to commence. A long, strident sound emerged from the countless instruments, and the entire arena was silent. Zeborah and Mopaka rose from their seats, and took place next to their presumed ally.

"People of Beneris," Zeborah began with a surprisingly loud and piercing voice, "today we celebrate our dominance. Today will be the day we show the galaxy what we are capable of!"

"These Mared, have committed a crime!" Mopaka continued. "They were born!"

The arena erupted. Every single spectator cheered their lungs out. Even Genocid was impressed by their readiness.

"They shall be punished for their insuperiority. Death is the only thing they deserve! Release the prisoners!"

The gates opened. Genocid's heart was pounding, and he had no idea why. A couple of ared stepped through the gate. He could feel their fear, and he rejoiced in it. The prisoners continued to come, and he suddenly saw an odd sight. A Twi'Lek girl amid the enslaved Mared. "Strange," he mumbled.

The Twi'Lek girl looked around. She was waiting for someone. A foot came out of the door. A human foot. Genocid's heart skipped a beat. He could feel something. It... Wasn't possible! The human came out, and the Sith Lord's jaw dropped.

"This can't be!" Genocid looked at the two Shelee next to him.

"Something wrong, my Lord?" Zeborah asked.

"You!" Genocid screamed, as he grabbed the Shelee's throat. "What's this human doing there?"

"I... I don't know, my Lord!" the Shelee attempted to bring out, barely able to speak.

"Do you know what this means?" the Sith screamed?

"No..."

"Please, my Lord," Mopaka begged, "release him!"

Genocid obliged, but he looked at both of them furiously. "Do not order your Shelee to fight them until I come back!" he foamed.

Furious, Genocid stepped inside. He activated his holo-transmitter. The hologram of a young woman with brown skin and corrupted features that were once pretty popped up.

"Yes, my Master? How can I be of assistance?" she asked.

"Darth Jannays," Genocid said as a manner of greeting. "You will never guess who I've just met."

"Who, my Lord?"

"An ex-lover of yours. A young man. A Jedi. A Padawan. A traitor."

"Dorma? But I thought you said he was dead?"

"Yes, exactly. They told me that they had killed one of the Jedi and that the one with the blue lightsabres escaped. They said they dumped the other one with the other Mared corpses and torched them. I don't understand how this is possible." Genocid paused a couple of seconds to catch his breath. He was seething with anger. "I should've checked it, damn it! I should've gone over to his lifeless body and make sure of it. I should've sliced the pig's head off just to be sure!" Genocid struck his temple with the palm of his right hand. "I've made a mistake."

"Where is Dorma now, my Master?"

"He's waiting in the arena to be executed. Right under the eye of tens of thousands of Shelee."

"Whoever they sent to kill him, they're no match for him."

"I know. I know." Genocid sighed in an attempt to release a bit of the frustration. It didn't help.

"You can't let him fight. He'll make all of you look like a joke. You cannot risk it, Master!"

"Yes, but the two Shelee won't be too pleased with that suggestion. And it's too early. They're still important. We still need them. I can't enforce my will on them."

"Dominate their minds..." Jannays suggested. "Nobody will ever be the wiser."

"Too risky. They are very resistant to mind manipulation."

"Threaten them."

"We still need their military backing. For now... "

"Barter with them."

"In the name of the Dark Side, Jannays! Sith don't barter with anyone!"

"Why not? If it's in the best interest of both parties..."

"It is not done, okay?"

"Intimidate them."

"I already did that. They're too smart to step into the same trap twice. Beneris will become a planet of the Sith Empire and follow the law of the Sith. That's what we agreed upon. But they are leader figures. If they start to claw back and whip up the Shelee against us, we can forget about Beneris. And without Beneris, no slave trade. No slave trade... Less military power. And that is something I am not willing to risk."

"It is a big risk either way, Master."

"Yes, I know. You just stay focused on your duties on Dantooine, okay? Keep the planet under control, that's all I'm asking of you. It's important we keep the planet in fear."

"Understood, Master. I will not fail."

The hologram of the woman faded, and Genocid put the holo-transmitter back in his pocket. He knew the next couple of minutes were going to be very important. If only those two fat aliens would be willing to stop the fight! If not, he wasn't sure what the consequences would be. He did know that it was going to be ugly. Very ugly.

"Are we just going to stand here all day long?" Lara asked herself out loud. The crowd became impatient, and wanted to see blood. It was extremely warm and the hot sand scorched their bare feet. They all had either a longsword or a blaster pistol, with the exception of Kieran, who had two longswords. Lara had a blaster. It were weapons of the lowest quality, but it was better than nothing at all.

"The I don wanna rush things, y'kno' love,"Kieran replied.

"What _are_ they doing up there?" Lara said, while peering at the balcony where the two Shelee and the Dark Lord of the Sith were discussing something.

"It's simple," Jaxxon intervened. "They're talking about their biggest threat."

"Who?" Kieran asked.

"The I, Kieran. The I..."

"You two!" Genocid bellowed as he stormed onto the balcony. "These slaves are not going to fight!"

"What are you talking about? Of course they're going to fight!" It was Mopaka who took the parole.

"No, they're not!" Genocid shouted. "It's too big a risk."

"I don't see a risk. I see a vastly outnumbered group of Mared who are terrified and about to be slaughtered."

"See that human over there? Do you? He's not just a human. He's a Jedi! He's going to slaughter your people. Every single one of them."

"Come come now. Even a Jedi can't win from what we've got in store from them."

"That's gambling, Mopaka. And if there is one thing I hate, it's gambling! And do you know why? Because it includes losing!"

"This is not a gamble, my Lord. You'll see. They'll die. Right here, right now."

"I hope so, Mopaka. I hope so Zeborah. For your sake. And that of your people."

The trumpeters blew through their instruments, and the gates opened once again.

"They're coming out!" Lara shouted.

"Dis is dem moment, ye know, bredren!" Kieran said. "Jus' stay close to the I and ye'll be safe. I and I watch each uvva's back, seen?"

"Here we go..." Jaxxon mumbled, as the first Shelee-gladiators came through the gates.

Next chapter: Jaxxon and the Mared fight for their survival in the arena.


	11. Chapter 11

Editor's note: First off: THANK YOU! to all who have read and reviewed my previous chapters. It means a lot. So, Elwin Ransom, Promised Flower, almostinsane, and occasionaly Arrianos... You make all of this worth it. Seriously.

Anyway, this chapter was really, REALLY difficult to write, but the result is quite okay. Prepare to be shocked, though :p  
Here we go...

**Chapter 11: A Jedi's scruples?**

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. The Pit._

"Kieran, you need to help me!" Jaxxon ordered with such determination the loud-mouth Mared didn't even consider doubting Jaxxon's words. "I need you to line these people up in 5 lines of ten people. Make sure the best fighters like you are stationed at the shatterpoints of a rectangular defensive formation. Can you do that?"

"Aye, the I can," Kieran said.

"Then do it."

"What I and I gonna do, y'kno'?"

"I will try to give you as much time as I can."

"Whatcha gonna do against the lot of dem Shelee, bredren?" Kieran asked his human friend. "Is I an' I a general or ting?"

"Better," Jaxxon said. "A lot better. You'll see soon enough. Now, line 'em up!"

Kieran turned around and started shouting orders in the strange Mared language. Quickly, the Mared formed a rectangular formation. Kieran stationed himself in the middle of the front line, with Lara, blaster in hand, right behind him. The Mared that were still relatively strong were based on the corners and quarters of the lines. Kieran had done an excellent job. In less than a minute, they had formed a solid base of defence.

Jaxxon stood in front of the troop, as he watched the Shelee-gladiators. They were still coming out. Slowly but surely, they were forming an offensive circle around the rectangle of Mared. The Shelee in the crowd cheered as hard as they could.

"Kieran!" Jaxxon shouted at the top of his voice without using the Force, "make them turn 180°! You take that side, I'll cover this one. And try not to get yourself killed too early!"

"Irie," the Mared called back, and after he shouted some more commands behind him, the enslaved Mared and Lara slowly turned around.

The Shelee has stopped coming out of the gates, and Jaxxon and his fellows were completely surrounded. The Padawan saw the lust for blood dripping of their faces, and it made him shiver. This exceeded hate. This was not natural. He swallowed. He held the grip of his blade a bit too tight, he realised. He threw it in the air, and grabbed it so that the handle was resting on his ring- and little finger, and clamped it with his thumb, index- and middle finger. He had learned from previous encounters that this was an effective way to deliver accurate, fast and deadly slashes. Which was exactly what he needed here.

The circled-up Shelee started to move. Jaxxon felt the tension behind him rise. They were mortally afraid.

"You there," Jaxxon said, addressing the front row that was directly behind him. "Should the rectangle be broken and you get split up, try fighting in small circles of three, covering each other's backs. Got that?"

The Mared nodded, and Jaxxon focused his attention back on the threat in front of them.

"Come on, attack already!" Jaxxon shouted. And a few seconds later, the circle that had surrounded them, began to shrink. The Shelee ran forward, swinging their vibroblades with an insatiable lust for death. "Time to play the game."

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. High balcony._

Darth Genocid looked at Zeborah and Mopaka. "Now, my foolish friends," he said, "you shall see the consequences of the biggest mistake you will ever make. And I can assure you, it will be the last!"

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. The Pit._

The first Shelee that swung his vibroblade at Jaxxon didn't live long enough to feel the sand of the ground his dead body fell on. Jaxxon countered his enraged strike with a quick slash that beheaded him, starting from the mouth. The one that followed right behind him, got his heart pierced as a smooth and flawless follow-up from the semi-decapitating previous strike. The 3rd and the 4th attacked him from the side. Jaxxon ducked underneath their brainless blows, and carved open both of their bellies with a single incision. Their own guts fell on their feet, and they looked at each other's amazed face, as they departed from the world of the living and as their spirits became one with the Force.

Jaxxon sensed Kieran through the Force. The Mared was indeed very skilled. He quickly peeked, and saw him wielding two longswords which he effectively used to kill his direct opponents rapidly and keep as many off him and the weaker ones as possible.

Jaxxon watched the short sides of the rectangle, of which the left side was already scattering. A couple of Mared had been killed, and the defence was falling apart. Jaxxon quickly ran towards it, as fast as his injured leg allowed him, carving down five more Shelee on the way, by either gutting them, or impaling their heart with an accurate strike. A Shelee mowed at him from behind, and he sensed it almost too late. He ducked underneath it, and felt the blade scraping his head that the slavers had shaven prior to the battle. He turned around, and hewed at the Shelee's kneecaps, which shattered. The hamstring got ripped apart, and the legs almost fell off. Jaxxon pulled his sword out of the doomed creature, moved forward and slid underneath the open legs of a Shelee that was about to finish off a female Mared half his size. While passing underneath his crotch, the Jedi-in training cut through the groin. Releasing a painful roar, the Shelee fell down. Jaxxon quickly whipped up on his feet. The Shelee wasn't dead yet, and wanted to strike one last deadly blow on the woman. But Jaxxon kicked the Shelee's face so hard his neck snapped and he sat up on his knees. He stuck his blade through his throat, and viciously ripped it to the right. The Shelee's head barely hung on to the body.

"Get back in the rectangle!" Jaxxon shouted at the woman. She quickly did as he ordered.

The Padawan threw his blade at the back of a Shelee that was about to surprise a valiantly fighting Mared. He quickly ran to the body and pulled it back out. He swiftly overlooked the situation. Kieran was still holding his own, and the end of the rectangle stood firmly at his end up until now. Things had improved at the left-hand short side, but it was still way too scattered. The long side Jaxxon had just left also started to show cracks, as they were vastly outnumbered.

Jaxxon instinctively wanted to use a Force Wave, but he doubted. It would certainly improve the situation and allow them to regroup, but then he of course revealed his true identity. And he didn't know how the others would take it, if they survived at all.

He knocked an approaching Shelee down with the handle of his blade, stuck it through his badomen, pulled it out and beheaded him to be sure he wouldn't be a threat any more. It had become a hectic situation. The Mared slaves weren't all warriors like him and Kieran of course, so they were failing to keep a tight defensive formation, but Jaxxon was pleased to see some people fighting in triangles of three, which meant they were following his advice to the letter.

He saw a mad Shelee lunging at an unsuspecting Mared that was keeping off two other opponents. "Watch your back!" Jaxxon shouted, but it was too late, and completely powerless the Padawan witnessed how his ally fell to the ground, blood squirting out of his mouth as his life of misery ended.

Jaxxon felt a rage coming over him he hadn't felt for a long, long time. He leapt at the Shelee that had cowardly killed someone from behind and with a powerful blow, he cut through the waist. He was sliced in half like a clot of butter. He blocked two incoming blows from the two Shelee that had been attacking his fallen mate by swiftly diverting their swords with his own. He followed it up with an insanely rapid 360 turn, during which he cut through their chest-area when departing and beheading them when coming to a standstill. The blood spurted out of the decapitated corpses and onto the human Jedi. Jaxxon looked at himself for an instant of a second, and saw his naked upper body was entirely covered with the thick, dark crimson blood of his foes. His legs, which were naked save for some boxers were covered with sand that stuck on viscous blood: his own, as a result of his calf-injury, and that of the others.

Overlooking the situation once more, Jaxxon noticed that more and more Mared were getting killed. He had been handling himself really well up until now, but there were others that couldn't defend themselves like he could. And it was impossible to protect them all with just a simple longsword. The urge to use the Force to aid him in the battle became larger by the passing second. But he resisted the temptation. With the anger he was feeling, he didn't think it'd be a good idea. He was afraid his Force Powers would go beyond his control, killing innocent Mared in the process. When he was a Sith Marauder and was free of the nuisance of qualms he always used a Force Repulse, Force Storm or a Force Wave to rid himself of all near living beings. But now that he was a Jedi, he couldn't do that any more. Self-preservation wasn't the only priority here. He had other people to protect as well.

"Why... does ... everything... have ...to... be... so... complicated?" Jaxxon roared, as he struck down Shelee on the rhythm of his words.

He felt something approaching him through the Force. It was moving awfully fast. Jaxxon turned around, and was just in time to block an incoming strike that would have impaled him hadn't he reacted so quickly. He diverted his opponent's sword to the side. But the Shelee raised his sword and hit him with another blow. Jaxxon blocked it effortlessly, but could not drive the Shelee back. They initiated a sabrelock. The Shelee was physically stronger than Jaxxon, and he quickly gained the upper hand. But the Padawan used subtle nods of the Force to drive the hostile sword back. The Shelee was no match for the power of the Force, and as the sword approached his own face, terror could be read in his eyes. But not for long. His eyes were slowly cut out by his own blade, as Jaxxon pushed it deeper and deeper into his foe's skull. When he hit the Shelee's cerebrum it was over. Dead, he dropped to the sandy ground, blowing up dust where he fell.

Another Shelee came at him, his blade held to his left-hand side. Jaxxon used his good leg to jump, and hit the Shelee with a spinning kick, knocking him down. Jaxxon landed on his bottom, and he slashed through the right arm of the Shelee that had just come at him, as it was the closest thing in his reach. Quickly, the Padawan got up and slashed through his throat. One threat less.

"Help!" Jaxxon heard someone call from behind him. A female Mared that was protecting her child was about to be cut down by three surrounding Shelee. With a swift throw of his sword, Jaxxon pierced the neck of the Shelee closest to the woman. He rushed at the two other, who turned around to see who had just killed their friend. Big mistake. With a split-legged jumpkick, Jaxxon knocked both Shelee down. He landed on his painful leg however, and collapsed. A Shelee approached from his right-hand side. Jaxxon hadn't retrieved his blade yet, and his heart skipped a beat. The Shelee raised his blade high into the air, as he aimed to strike the defenceless Jedi. Jaxxon realised only a miracle could save him now. It flashed through his mind that even a Force Push was too late now.

Two blades struck the Shelee through the back. They came out through the belly, taking with them a shred of liver. As the Shelee fell down, his saviour was revealed.

"Get up, me bredren!" Kieran shouted, as the Shelee slid off his two longswords. He turned around, and continued with doing what he did best.

Jaxxon quickly grabbed his own sword, and lashed at the calf of the nearest Shelee. The calf got ripped into shreds and the calf splintered. Blood spat into Jaxxon's eyes, temporarily blinding him. He got up, and could sense two Shelee approaching him from the side. He dropped down, and the two Shelee clashed. They fell next to Jaxxon, who rolled from one side to the other, chopping off their heads in a gruesome manner.

He quickly wiped the blood out of his eyes and got up. The defensive rectangle had been completely penetrated and it was splintered and scattered. Jaxxon needed to think of something quickly, because within five minutes he'd be sure either him or Kieran would be the last man standing.

"Let's do some Jedi tricks," Jaxxon mumbled to himself. He shot into the air, and landed on top of an unsuspecting Shelee's neck, stabbing his sword through it as he landed. He pushed himself off the shoulders of his fresh victim, and landed in the neck of another unsuspecting foe after doing a back flip or two. He repeated this slaughtering procedure 15 times in such a fast manner it took less than half a minute. It was effective, and the he noticed the crowd started to cheer.

"Are they cheering for me?" Jaxxon thought, as he leapt into the air, and cut through the carotid artery of the Shelee that passed underneath him. When he landed, he noticed that not only the crowd was indeed cheering in his direction, but that several of the Mared were looking at him in a bedazzled way. It only enraged the fighting Shelee even more though. They now came at him in a pack of five. Jaxxon moved faster than the wind, and he sliced through the right side of the pack so fast that he disembowelled three of them at once. The other two were met by a whirlwind flurry. He jumped up, twisting around his axis so rapidly he became a bloody, deadly, blurry killing machine. He cut them down faster than they could inhale another breath.

As he landed, he saw some Shelee were actually starting to become afraid of him. He grinned. He felt guilty that he was inspiring so much fear. But it was a great feeling! One that he had missed.

The Shelee started to regroup, adapting themselves to the combat situation. They had understood that there was only one man that had to be stopped. The rest was unimportant. About 15 out of 60 Mared remained, and as they saw the Shelee run away from them, towards Jaxxon they quickly gathered. Kieran and Lara were hurt, and they assumed the leading role of the small pack of Mared.

"Stay behind the I," Kieran shouted at the others. "Me main man Jaxxon will be takin' it for us, ya kno'!"

Jaxxon firmly gripped his sword. He saw about 60 Shelee charging at him, driven mad by their lust for blood, vengeance and death. Jaxxon knew that he was in danger if he continued to refuse his Force Powers. His instinct for survival prevailed.

Jaxxon raised his off-hand, and the Shelee ran into an invisible wall. Those in the front were crushed between the impenetrable barrier and those that slammed against them from behind. Jaxxon broke down the wall he had constructed through the Force, and those in the middle of the horde tipped over. With immense concentration, the Padawan lifted all 50-something remaining Shelee into the air. And with an unbelievable display of skill, he slammed them all together, creating a globe of broken bodies. Those in the middle were either crushed or had the air squeezed out of their brains. As Jaxxon released them, 15 dead Shelee dropped out of the living sphere. Those that had survived, reluctantly got up.

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. High balcony._

"Do something, Lord Genocid!" Zeborah screamed in terror as he saw his men getting slaughtered.

"Yes," Mopaka agreed, "block his Force Powers or something like that!"

Darth Genocid took on a sour face. "I told you this would happen."

"Stop him! We'll do anything you want!!" Zeborah shouted hysterically.

"Why should I do that?" Genocid calmly inquired. "You have nothing more to offer me. In fact, I would like to see how this turns out."

Zeborah and Mopaka looked at each other. Tears were almost rolling out of their eyes.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Genocid slowly said. "This _is _the last mistake you'll ever make. But it's all too late for that now. If you just would've listened to me, we could've prevented this. I'll try to set your failures right later. But do not forget, stupid little Shelee fucks!!" Genocid suddenly aggressively shouted, "that the penalty for failure is death!"

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. The Pit._

The whirlwind technique was something Jaxxon had practised a lot while he was a mere Sith apprentice. He hadn't used it in recent years however, as he never had to. He had had better force powers, like the Repulse, or the Wave. And even after he had banned the Storm from his arsenal, he had had better options still. But now was the time to use the technique.

First, he created the eye of the hurricane. It flowed from his fingertips, and quickly expanded to the point where the remaining Mared and Lara stood, keeping them safe and out of reach. He reached out through the Force. He let it flow through him, he let it guide him, just like Master Daego had instructed. He sensed the Force signatures of his enemies. They approached quickly. He lifted them off their feet, and dragged them into the evolving vortex. It took all his concentration and all his skill to pull it off.

Slowly but surely the Shelee realised what was happening. They started clawing at the air around them, unable to escape. They started to spin around their axis, but they also started to spin around the eye of the storm. Much like the movements a planet makes.

Jaxxon let the cyclone rage. Faster and faster, the Shelee started spinning all around the Pit. Some banged against the walls, causing their skulls to crack open or their spines to break. Some suffocated. Some of them had their wounds ripped further open, causing them to lose a lot of blood. Some of them could not bear with the circular movements. They tried to throw up, but the pressure on their chests prevented them from doing so. They choked in their own vomit. Some of them that were still wielding a blade stuck it through their own hearts, escaping a more painful death. And as Jaxxon finally let the raging typhoon calm down, not a single hostile gladiator had survived.

The arena erupted. The violent anger that had previously possessed the spectators had changed into an amazed and respectful cheer. The didn't care he was a Jedi. They didn't care he had killed some of their own kind. They didn't care he was working with the Mared. He had given them a bloody, spectacular and entertaining massacre. And they loved him for it. And as Jaxxon stuck his bladed hand into the air to receive the applause, every single Shelee got on their feet to hail the fan-favourite. All Shelee, save two...

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. High balcony._

Darth Genocid looked at Zeborah and Mopaka. Their jaws had dropped and they were staring at the pit and the crowd in shared disbelief.

"Gentlemen," Darth Genocid sarcastically said, "may I congratulate you on a job well done?"

"M...M...M... My Lord Genocid, I apologise," Zeborah stammered. "This... This is our fault. I... I beg for your forgiveness."

"Me too," Mopaka said, dropping down on his knees in front of the Dark Lord of the Sith. "It won't happen again, I can assure you! We won't make any more mistakes."

"You're right," Genocid said in a cool, menacing manner. "You won't." He raised his right hand, and the eyes of the two Shelee closed shut.

"You shall sleep now. And dream. Dream of the worst thing that has ever happened to you. You shall feel the intense pain that has tormented you during your entire lives. And you shall never wake up again."

The two Shelee fell on the ground, and they went into convulsions. They started moaning, letting out a short, penetrating scream every few seconds. Genocid spat on them.

"So weak," he said. "So foolish. Jannays was right. I don't need you any more. I just need the crowd. My mistake."

He turned around and looked at the pit below him. Dorma was still receiving his standing ovation. But not for long...And he walked out of the balcony, making his way towards the pit's entrance gate.

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. The Grand Arena. The Pit._

Jaxxon started at the blast of trumpets that resounded through the arena. The crowd went immediately silent. The cheers that had previously filled the entire structure now faded away into the absolute nothingness of complete silence.

The Padawan slowly joined the little group of Kieran and the others. They were still watching him in disbelief. Jaxxon knew he had to explain everything to them later on, if they still wanted to talk to him. But for now, there were bigger issues. He peeked at Lara, who was still hiding behind Kieran's shoulder. She had a worried frown etched on her face. Kieran himself seemed to be emotionless. He seemed to stare right through Jaxxon.

The pit gates opened, and out came 30 fully armed Sith troopers, their black durasteel armour shimmering in the sweltering flare of the Benerissian sun. The Mared backed down a bit, afraid of an incoming attack. Jaxxon didn't budge. He knew who was coming.

The Sith troopers formed a circle around the slaves, and lined up in the direction of the entrance. A black-clad man stepped out of the dark preparation rooms into the brightness of the sandy pit. A large, ebony lightsabre was swinging at his belt as he took small, decisive and determined steps towards the young man that was the source of all his troubles. When they were face-to-face he stopped. He wasn't much taller than Dorma. But he breathed out a presence that was undeniable and only explainable through the Force itself. His orange eyes were blazing in their sockets and the rough, jet-black stubbly beard defined his evil looks and greyish skin, that seemed to be bursting with thick, blue veins.

"Dorma," he slowly spoke, "or is it Jaxxon now? It's been way too early."

"Likewise," Jaxxon answered, slightly panting, not allowing his fear to escape. Because he did fear the man in front of him at the moment. Without his lightsabre, he was powerless against the Dark Lord of the Sith himself. Had he been fully armed he'd be feeling much more secure. "Why are you coming out here?" the Jedi asked.

"I have come down here, because I wanted to ask you something?" Genocid casually asked, as if he was inquiring about the weather?"

"About what?"

"Why are you doing this, Dorma? Can't you see it's pointless? All the resistance. All the fighting. All the bloodshed. It doesn't mean a damn thing. So tell me. Why, Dorma? Why?"

"I am a Jedi," was the short and simple answer.

"Oh, a Jedi, eh?" Genocid said, slightly grinning. "And what is that worth these days? People distrust you. They think you're in it for nothing but your own. We all know that ain't the case, but they don't. In fact, they are quick to make deals with the Sith these days. And do you know why that is? Because they believe that the Sith, like me, know what is best for the galaxy. We are followers of the True Sith ideal, which means that we rid the galaxy of the worthless bits. The weak bits. The shatter points. While you Jedi almost seem to promote compassion, fallibility and frailty. So I ask you again, Dorma, why are you embarking on some sort of quest against the Sith Empire? You cannot win."

"Oh, you think so?" Jaxxon replied. "That's where we disagree."

"Don't be so stubborn, boy! It is the Sith that gave you the power you now possess! It is the Sith that made these previously worthless Shelee rise out above themselves! It were the Sith that defeated the Mandalorians! It were the Sith who... Well, you get my point."

"Your point is worthless," Jaxxon spat. "Your words consist of nothing but hollow, out of date and empty phrases, Mandalorian Sith. It isn't an ideal that makes you what you are. It isn't the Sith ideal that achieves greatness. No. It's unconditional love. And I'll prove it to you right now."

With those words, Jaxxon turned around, and raises his left fist into the air. The arena erupted once more, as they cheered for their new hero. Slightly grinning, Jaxxon turned again.

"See? They love me unconditionally. Which means that if you kill me, you will have a rebellion on your hands. The Shelee here will overwhelm you. Their anger vis-à-vis the Sith will spread from this place like a cancer. And you can say goodbye to your little Benerissian coup d'état. So I would like to see you try it. In fact, I pray you are that stupid."

Genocid's right eye twitched. The little uptight bastard was trying to intimidate him. And he was doing a damn good job at it too! He had always been a manipulative little bugger. He was smart. He knew he needed the support of the crowd. He knew they were broadcasting this planet wide. He knew he had become the newest saviour. The newest martyr, should he die. He knew that he wasn't ready to attack the Shelee yet.

"One day, Dorma, you shall die at my hands," the Dark Lord menacingly said. "One day..."

"Perhaps. But not today."

And after those words, the Dark Lord turned himself around, followed closely by his Sith troops. Once more, the arena applauded the brave man that had overcome all obstacles, human, Jedi, or not. The sound that came forth from the crowd was deafening. And slowly but surely, a chant started. Soon, the entire arena was shouting only one thing.

"Jedi!"

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. Principal slave quarters, execution area 50-J._

"That was fucking awesome!" Lara shouted, as she tightly hugged Jaxxon. "Why didn't you say you were a bleedin' Jedi, huh? I was shitting my pants I was so scared!"

"I an' I's a righteous rudeboy, ya know, star. Good to see dem mad wicked skills of you's in full ornate, ya know," Kieran added, patting Jaxxon on the back.

The rest of the Mared also congratulated and thanked him. Jaxxon felt a little shy. But he was happy they all appreciated his help and never blamed him for the fact he was in fact a Jedi.

"Why so much secrets, Jax?" Lara asked him. "We're all in this together aren't we?"

"Yeah, Jaxxon said, "but I wasn't sure how you all would've reacted. Especially after you, Kieran, were so dismissive about me and my Order."

"My bad, my bad," the Mared said, apologetically raising his hands.

""So, what we going do now?" one of the other Mared said in broken Standard. "Wait for next execution, so to speak?"

"Of course not," the touchy Twi'Lek girl responded. .

"Dem Mared bredren's got onna dem points ya kno'. What's da plan, Jax?" Kieran asked his human friend.

Jaxxon sat himself down with a deep sigh. He stared at the ground.

"There's not much we _can _do. Except for one thing..."

"And what might that be?" Lara asked.

"We have to find my Master."

"What? Why?"

"He's a Jedi too. Much more powerful and much wiser than I am. He'll know what to do. Besides, I'd be surprised, disappointed even if Genocid didn't send anyone to kill us. If he's not going to do it personally, that is."

"More powerful than you? Wow... But... If this... Sith Lord would have wanted to kill you, I'm sure he would've done so already. You were practically at his mercy back in the arena!"

"That was different. I bluffed my way out of it, but all I did was buy us some time. He couldn't afford to kill us then. But now that we're out of the scope... If I don't buy us a little bit more time soon, really really soon, it'll be too late for any of us." Jaxxon knew they were in a very difficult situation. But then again, he had been so ever since the embassy was attacked. And he still hadn't worn a decent shirt or trousers, let alone his robes, ever since that explosion made him wake up. But what he missed most, was his red lightsabre. It defined who he was. The touch and feeling of the feathery hilt with a black leather strap around it was the thing he had missed ever since he was struck in the belly. His wounds were almost completely healed, but he had damaged his calf-injury during the battle. He was so fanatic while fighting that he had been oblivious to the pain. But now, it all came over him. The muscles he had strained, the dried blood that stuck in his hair and on his body, the awful smell of death that was hanging around him... He had never looked so awful, of that he was certain.

"But how's me main man gon' reach dem uvva Jedi?" Kieran asked after a short pause. "Ye 'ave none clue of where 'im is, ya kno'. And even if ye did, the us is still stuck inna dem nasty bombaclot slave qua'ters

"We have no other option," Jaxxon said, taking a fast decision. "Whether you want to come with me or not, I leave up to you. But tonight, no matter what, I'm breaking out of here..."

_Next chapter: _Zorn Quolyg-Naryn and Maela Ulchnar are intercepted by a Beneris-bound Sith reinforcement warship.

_____________

So, that's it for this chapter! I hope you liked it! Please drop a review if you do, and if you must, also if you don't :p Comments are always greatly appreciated. Again, this was extremely hard to write and to make it comprehensible, and I'd like to know if I succeeded or failed. It's the first time I have written an action scene on such a large scale.  
See y'all as soon as possible :p


	12. Chapter 12

_Editor's note: It was a long, long wait, but I hope it's worth it! This is the longest chapter I have ever written, and I hope it's not too long. It introduces a new Sith Lord, and really evolves the Zorn and Maela characters._ Enjoy!

**Chapter 12 – No glory for Heroes**

_Coruscant, Docking Bay 23-A_

"Hurry up!" Zorn shouted at Maela, who was slowly walking towards the _Zany Zabrak_'s entrance ramp. "We're two hours behind schedule already!"

"Chill out, Zorn," the female Jedi Knight said as she patted him on the back while passing him by and entering the freighter. "There's time."

"Well, as you may have noticed," Zorn angrily replied, "these are my trials and if I ever want to become a Knight, let alone a Master, this has to be done by the book." He pressed the button that made the entrance ramp close and hurried himself towards the cockpit. Maela positioned herself in the co-pilot seat. Zorn quickly glanced at her. She had closed her eyes and repositioned herself in a comfy manner.

"You're not seriously thinking about sleeping are you?" Zorn asked her. "We need to stay focused here!"

Maela reluctantly opened one eye and sighed. "Since when did you come so tight around the rectal area, Zorn? Relax, the Force will guide us. Don't worry."

The Iridonian let out a soft growl and powered up the engines. The _Zany Zabrak_'s many switches and buttons lit up and the soft humming of the specially modified engine made the freighter come to life. "Hang on," Zorn said as he lifted his ship off the ground. They rose vertically for about half a mile, and then pressed forward. They were out of Coruscant's atmosphere in a matter of seconds.

"You're nervous," Maela said, her eyes still closed as they drifted among the countless other vessels that were making way towards their hyperspace route. It was not a question. She was merely stating it.

"Well, can you blame me?" Zorn responded. "This is the most important mission of my entire life, Maela! If I fail, it's all over for me."

"You won't fail," Maela said. "Unless you keep staring over your shoulder in anxiety all the time, so that you lose track of what's really important. So for the last time, my Iridonian friend, relax!"

"Okay, okay," Zorn said, dismissing her criticism with an annoyed waving gesture. "I don't need a lesson from you." Zorn stared out of the window, making a 90° turn towards the left.

"No, but you need my help. And if you want me to give it to you, I suggest you change that tone of yours!" Maela said a bit cross.

"Sorry," Zorn apologized. "I'm just a bit nervous okay, I'll try to relax." He seemed sincere, so Maela let it slide. "Here we go," Zorn said, pulling the large trigger in front of him. The double Z's hyperdrive fired up, and they left the Coruscant system at an unbelievable velocity.

_Hyperspace tunnel in the Naboo system, Sith carrier 'Glory', Main Bridge_

"Master Fakan," one of the Sith apprentices said, "I've got some news that might interest you."

Darth Fakan turned around. The Rodian Dark Jedi looked at the apprentice with his pitch-black eyes, almost indistinguishable from the black hood he had draped over his head. The only thing that made them stand out, was his greyish skin. Darth Fakan was a product of the Sith Academy on Dantooine, a planet they had taken some 90 years ago during the Sith Revolutions. It was a major blow to the Republic and since then it had brought forth many a feared and skilled Dark Jedi, Darth Fakan being not the least of them. Probably the greatest product of the Sith Academy on the green planet had been Darth Sangum, Master to the late, great Darth Morlan, who originally was a fallen Jedi and the later Master of Darth Genocid and Darth Dorma. Fakan was almost nothing compared to Sith of such skill, but he had been given a very important mission nonetheless. He had been placed in command of the 'Glory', one of the mightiest carriers the Sith Empire had at its disposal. He was to transport 900,000 Sith soldiers to Beneris, a planet Lord Genocid had big plans with. The army he was supposed to bring to Beneris was one of the greatest ever assembled, and would certainly guarantee an easy victory over the pitiful, unsuspecting Shelee there. Last time he had talked to Darth Genocid he was told that there was a little complication he had to deal with, and that he didn't need to hurry before landing the troops. That was a couple of hours ago. So the Dark Jedi was interested to hear what the Sith Apprentice had to say.

"What is it?" the Rodian asked in Galactic Basic. He had never learned the language of his own species.

"Scanners have indicated that a Republic freighter will be crossing our hyperspace route in just a couple of minutes, sir," the Apprentice said, positive for the news to have a great impact.

"What's so special about that?" Fakan asked. "It's just a freighter..."

"Yes, sir, but records show that it is not just a freighter. It's the 'Zany Zabrak'. Its owner is registered as Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn. A Jedi, sir."

"Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn..." Fakan softly said to himself. He knew that name. He knew it all too well. He had heard many a heroic tale about this dreaded Jedi Knight. He was undoubtedly one of the greatest Jedi the Order had to offer at the moment, if not _the _greatest... His death would please Darth Genocid immensely and would certainly mean a promotion for him.

"Are you sure he's aboard?" Fakan asked.

"Spies in the Coruscant docks have confirmed the navicomputer is voice-locked, my Master. It has to be him."

"Hmm," Fakan mused. "This is going to be fun. Intercept the damn Jedi. And reel his freighter in."

"With all due respect, sir... Why don't we just blow up his ship?"

"Because I want to kill him myself, you fool. And present his body to Lord Genocid himself when we land the invasion troops on Beneris."

"Yes, sir," the Apprentice submissively said. "I'll tell the pilots to commence the interception procedure as quickly as possible."

Darth Fakan followed his student to the pilots, crossing the immense bridge. Even he was still amazed by the monstrous size of the 'Glory'. It certainly hadn't stolen its name. It was a behemoth of a carrier, bigger than any Republic ship, and second to only the 'Genocide' in terms of size. The 'Genocide' was the pride of the Sith navy, and the flagship of the Empire. It was the personal battleship of the Dark Lord of the Sith himself. But even the carrier-capacity of the 'Genocide' fell into nothingness next to the 'Glory'. It could host almost a million people, if properly placed of course. It was risky to have so many soldiers in one ship, but Beneris was surrounded by a Sith fleet and they only had to stop once during their hyperspace journey: right now.

As Fakan took place behind the chief pilot, the crew started counting.

"Commencing interception procedure in 5...4...3...2...1!"

The gigantic 'Glory' dropped out of hyperspace. Within a mile or two, a tiny freighter revealed itself. It was like comparing a murderous foot to an ant.

_The Outer Rim, hyperspace tunnel within 0.76 parsec of the Malastare system, Republic freighter 'Zany Zabrak', cockpit._

"I'm telling you, Maela! He's gonna be the death of me once," Zorn said.

"Now you're exaggerating! He's your brother, he would never do something to you!"

"Not intentionally, no. But you just wait... Hey, what the...?"

The blue hyperspace tunnel around them faded away.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!!" Zorn shouted, every cry louder than the previous one. "Please, NO!"

"Force, help us..." Maela mumbled, as she saw the largest and most capacious carrier she had ever laid eyes upon right in front of them. Her jaw dropped wide open. "We're dead."

"I don't understand!" Zorn yelled. "How was it able to intercept us from our hyperspace route? That's impossible, I've never heard of something like that before!"

"Just get us out of here!" Maela shouted. "Light speed, come on, what are you waiting for!!??"

Zorn quickly pulled the trigger that normally powered up the hyperdrive, but all that came forth from it was a loud beep. "I hate that sound," Zorn said gritting his teeth. "It means trouble."

"Why haven't we jumped?" Maela asked hysterically.

"We're in its tractor beam, that's the only explanation! I can't even turn the ship!" Zorn replied. The ship rumbled heavily when adjusting the steering yoke, but it didn't change its course.

"But you're the best pilot in known space, aren't you? Do something about it!"

"Look, I can blast down 247 other fighters in a record time of 3 minutes and 24.7 seconds in the Temple's training module. That doesn't mean I can escape from a tractor beam of a ship that size! It's overpowering every single button. We're in their hands right now."

"Why don't they blast us?" Maela asked out loud.

"I don't know, but I am grateful they haven't done so yet. They could if they wanted to..."

A voice suddenly resounded through the double Z's cockpit. It came from the speakers; a message from their captors.

"Zaeyn Quolyg-Naryn, this is the captain of the 'Glory' speaking. Darth Fakan. As you can see, we have you in our power. Be wise and do not resist arrest. If you do attempt to initiate hostile activities, we _will _kill you! When you're locked inside the docks, throw out your lightsabres and come out with your hands behind your back. If you fail to do so, we shall blow up your ship immediately. We are offering you a honourable death."

"There's been some mistake here!" Zorn shouted through the microphone, but it was no good. Communications had been cut off entirely. "Damn it!"

"Easy, Zorn," Maela said. "We're not dead yet. And I have no intention of dying today."

"That makes two of us," Zorn answered. "But I'm still on the verge of pissing my robes.

"We have to think of something quickly," Maela said.

"Remember what I said just then?" Zorn asked his female partner, who shook her head. "I told you he'd be the death of me once, intentionally or not. Right now, we're being pulled in by the greatest carrier I've ever seen because they all think we are Zaeyn."

"That's not his fault!" Maela said. "But wait! I have an idea! Do you still have that thing you crafted the other day!?"

"What thing?" Zorn asked. He had no idea what she was talking about.

"The thing you showed me before you went to Tatooine!"

"Oh, that. Yeah, it's somewhere in the cargo hold, I think. But wha..."

"Get it! And quickly, before it's too late."

_The Outer Rim, within 0.75 parsec of the Malastare system, Sith carrier 'Glory', docking bay X475-CZ._

The 'Zany Zabrak' stood in the bay. It was a magnificent freighter. Darth Fakan was immediately fascinated by it, having studies a lot of ships during the course of his life. It was completely white, with shades of green licking the engines. Its speed and handling were unmatched. And its owner... Well, its owner was the most feared Jedi in the Empire.

Fakan folded his arms, and looked at the ship. He was surprised that he didn't feel anyone on board. Some Jedi-trick, no doubt. But the destructive force of a Dark Jedi outclassed anything this Council-puppet could throw at him. A Sith commander approached him.

"My Lord, scanners haven't picked up anything on board. It has shown no signs of life."

"Impossible," Fakan replied. "Someone has to be on that freighter. Scan it again!"

"Yes, my lord," the soldier said, but the scans gave the same result as before. "There's nothing, sir. It's completely empty."

"Tell your men to go in and search the ship," Fakan ordered. "Perhaps he's hiding somewhere. Or perhaps he's dead already." As the commander hurried away to carry out his duties, the Dark Jedi wondered why Zaeyn would do such a thing as sending his ship into hyperspace, abandoning it, leaving it for anyone to find. It didn't make sense. Then again, scanning results turned out negative _and _he didn't feel anything on board. It was one unlikely thing against another.

8 Sith soldiers ran up the entrance ramp, trying to be as quick and thorough as possible in their search for any form of life. Fakan impatiently waited for the results of the search when he realised that if there indeed was a powerful Jedi like the eldest Quolyg-Naryn on board, that he'd have no trouble dominating their minds and tell them to go back and deliver a negative report. But one does not fool a disciple of the Dark Side so easily as a handful of runts, the Dark Jedi thought, and he entered the Zany Zabrak himself. If there was anyone on board, he'd find him, her or them. He ordered the soldiers to get out.

He walked around the port dormitories. The four cots were made and seemed like they hadn't been used in a while. It certainly was a sign of abandonment. And when he noticed the starboard dormitories were impeccable as well, he really started to doubt if there really was anyone on board. Perhaps they shouldn't have cut the freighter's communications, so they could have heard something before they were reeled in. Fakan also hadn't sensed anything before or during the ship's capture, but that was probably because his Force-range was insufficient. Some Sith or Jedi, like Lord Genocid or that damned Master Kraenos, could sense a person from half the galaxy away. He couldn't. He had other skills of course, none of them that could match those of his Dark Lord, but then again he was quite content with his role in things. He posed no immediate threat to the throne of the Sith Empire, which meant he could live as long as he performed well. Which he had always done up until now.

He sighed, pacing and musing at the same time. He went to the cockpit, and sat himself down on the pilot's seat. It was very comfortable. The windows and dashboard were spotless. The steering yoke that double-functioned as the triggers of the ship's front cannon felt like a pair of female human breasts: warm, soft and delightful to squeeze. Fakan admired the ship. It was unlike any other freighter he had ever seen. His face was reflected in the ship's front window, and Darth Fakan looked at himself with his plain, deep, black Rodian eyes. He decided not to blow up the ship. It was a bit careless, but everything indicated that it was completely free of any Jedi filth. Destroying it would be a waste.

Fakan got up and walked to the engine room, letting his fingers slide over the silky durasteel walls. They had the cold, hard grey colour of the material they were made out of, but a blue shine seemed to radiate from it. Some kind of special painting technique, no doubt. Personally, he would've preferred something darker. He arrived in the engine room, and bent himself over the hyperdrive to begin with. It was amazing. Fakan could see that it was specially modified. And that the technician who had worked on it was the best. Even when it wasn't activated, the hyperdrive hummed softly, its inner energies fluidly flowing trough its core. Even on standby mode, it contained a lot of power. And it didn't radiate any heat at all. Masterful. And the basic engines itself, could hardly be called basic. Every single bit of energy that flowed through the pipes and conduits seemed to sparkle, as if powered by the Force itself. The entire freighter was brimming with this kind of intense energy. It made the ship look powerful.

Fakan probably had more respect for this piece of machinery than for any other form of organic, synthetic or AI/VI life. He could not destroy a piece of art like this.

The Dark Jedi got out of the 'Double Z'. The same commander from before approached him.

"Shall we blow it to bits, lord Fakan?" he asked.

Maintaining silence, Fakan raised his hands, lifting the commander off his feet. With a thrust of right arm, he sent the man flying. He flew head first against the wall at the other end of the docking bay. His skull cracked open, and he fell to the floor. Dead.

"Noone enters the ship, noone touches it," Fakan ordered. "And noone even scratches it. Or the consequences will be dire."

He walked away from the Docking Bay, his robes waving behind him. "I just need to find another name for it," he mumbled.

_The Outer Rim, within 0.75 parsec of the Malastare system, Sith carrier 'Glory', docking bay X475-CZ. Aboard the 'Zany Zabrak'._

"That was close," Zorn said as he crawled out of the smuggling space beneath the cockpit. "I actually planned on using these smuggling storages to give the engine some more power. I'm glad I didn't."

"No kidding, Maela said, swiftly jumping out of the confined room. "I thought he had us there for a minute. Luckily Master Daego taught me that Force-Stealth trick before he took Jaxxon to Tatooine."

"There ain't no such thing as luck," Zorn replied. "It's always the Force."

"Yeah, well, then the Force is with us today. Man, that was one of the hardest things I had to pull off up until now."

"How does it work, that little trick? It's damn handy to be able to conceal your Force signature," Zorn asked, wiping the pilot's seat.

"It's all about trying to fade away and blend into the background, really," Maela replied. "It's difficult to explain." She sat herself down in the co-pilot's seat, and stroked the dashboard in front of her. "When you walk, talk, fight, think, eat, breathe, sleep, you emit a signal, an echo through the Force. But the Force is everything. It's in all living things."

"But there's nothing in here but machinery," Zorn sceptically remarked.

"Yes, but if you take one look out of the window, you'll see a lot of organic life. Ain't that right? So, if one can train his serenity to such a degree that he can hide his echo behind that of others, he or she will remain undetected through the Force. It doesn't work on everyone of course, and only a handful of people can do it. Master Daego obviously, Master Kraenos, Jaxxon, Zaeyn and... myself."

"Impressive," Zorn touted, slightly frowning. "But can't people like Genocid see through it?"

"Nah, I don't think so. Sith don't recognise subtle tactics like these. They think only harsh, immediate and overwhelming changes or signals through the Force can pose a threat to them and their power. As always, Sith underestimate the strength, effect and use of a small thing."

"Isn't it hard to learn?" the Zabrak asked. "I imagine it is..."

"Yes, it's very hard to do it the right way. You have to meditate deeply before you can hide your Force signature. Even now, I have to maintain some form of focus. He still won't be able to spot us, but it's easier to maintain this... so called cloak than conjure it."

"Yeah. And we were lucky I had this device with me," Zorn said, throwing a small seemingly casual case of plasteel into the air. It spun around and landed back in his hands.

"I thought you said there was no such thing as luck," Maela grinned.

"Yeah, well... It's strange, though. A couple of weeks I suddenly felt the urge so make a device like this... Perhaps the Force foresaw we would be taken and then made me invent this."

"How does it work?" Maela asked, peering at the small object.

"Oh, it's simple. Almost as simple as nanotechnology. It's a cloaking device that works for every form of organic life. It makes everything within a radius of 2 and a half metres undetectable to any scanner. It disrupts the signals your body emits, like heat, breath, radioactivity,... And it turns those signals into neutral things. A scanner would identify us as air, and therefore not report us. Simple, isn't it?"

"Erm... Yeah," Maela said. "Whatever. It's actually exactly the same thing I do, only with other things, isn't it? You hide the organic signals, I hide those of the Force."

"You could look at it that way, I guess," Zorn replied.

A silence crept in between the conversation. The two Jedi just stared at the ground.

"So?" Zorn eventually asked, after a couple minutes of silence. "What's the plan?"

"The plan?" Maela returned.

"Yeah, the plan. How do we get off this carrier?"

"I don't know," the female human said. "I really don't. By the way, Zorn, these are your trials."

"There are _not _my trials. My trials are on Malastare. We just need to find a way to get there."

"Zorn, face it. There's no way you're going to Malastare. If we do get off this ship, we'll have to report back to the Council. We have to tell them of this new technology the Sith seem to have."

Zorn sighed. "Then it's over..."

"Don't be so dramatic! Of course it's not going to be all over! Do you think the Council won't understand what happened? Besides, fighting, busting, flying your way off a behemoth Sith carrier seems like pretty nasty trials to me. They'd be stupid not to make you a Jedi Knight."

"Okay, okay. But then what's the plan?"

"You tell me. You're supposed to know everything about ships, pal. Not me. I'm a Guardian, not a Sentinel in training..."

Well..." Zorn started, pondering about what they needed to do to get off the ship.

"First of all," Zorn said, "we need to remain undetected. This carrier has a lot of Sith on board. I can't say the exact number, but it's close to a million. That's quite a lot to take on. Even Zaeyn wouldn't like those odds."

"Seems obvious to me..." Maela replied.

"Yep, but essential nonetheless. Then, we need to disable the tractor beam. Otherwise they can just reel us back in. We need to disable their hyperdrive, stopping them from following us. Because if they can intercept us at lightspeed, then I don't want to risk leaving them behind with a hyperdrive. It's unlikely, but if they have tracking programs that are as powerful as their interception programs, then they could very well just follow us all the way to Coruscant if they wanted to. Thirdly, their main cannons need to be disabled. Otherwise they could just gun us down when they find the tractor beam and hyperdrive aren't functional any more."

"Won't we have escaped through hyperspace by that time?"

"Even the double Z's hyperdrive needs some time to power up, Maela..."

"But how do we get past the guards in the docking bay?" Maela asked. "There's a lot of them. I don't have any stealth field generators or enhancers on me."

"Well, it just so happens I've got something better."

"What's that?"

"The Force," Zorn said with a devious grin.

_Sith carrier 'Glory', docking bay X475-CZ._

"You know," one Sith soldier guarding the freighter said to the other, "I'm getting this urge to look the other way."

"Yeah, me too," the other replied.

"I gotta pee," another one said.

"Yeah, me too," five other soldiers replied.

"But we gotta stay here and guard the ship!" one of the other guards shouted. "We have sworn that... Waah!" he shouted, grabbing his crotch. "I can't... Hold it...!" he dropped his weapon and sprinted out of the docking bay. He was followed by about twenty other soldiers. A couple of forty remained.

"What was that all about?" a soldier asked.

"I don't know," his pal replied. "But they... Hey, I think there's something wrong with the mainframe of the gates..."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know but we should take a look at it."

"Wh... All right, then. Go ahead. But make it quick. It's probably nothing."

"Okay." The soldier quickly made his way to the mainframe that controlled the docking gates, and saw a small spark emit from the buttons. "Hey, there are sparks flying out of it!"

"What? Let me see. Gilroy, Fayette, Larange, come with me!" The four soldiers went to the mainframe and knelt next to it.

"What's wrong?" Gilroy asked.

"I don't know, I just saw a spark."

Suddenly, the machine shot forth rays of electricity, scorching the five soldiers to their deaths. It alarmed the 35 other soldiers. Half of them ran towards their dead fellow, checking to see if they were okay, and what had happened. The other half remained vigilant.

"I just know I can kick your ass in a Pazaak match," one of the remaining guards said to the one next to him.

"Yeah, right," he replied. "You'd raise your cards if you had 20 on the table."

"Shut up, and admit that I'm better than you!"

"In you dreams, you stupid asshole!"

"I'll get you for that, you swine!" The soldier drew his rifle and shot his pal right through the head. The remaining guards all started, and saw what had happened. They drew their rifles as well, and soon there was a fire fight among the remaining guards. Nobody witnessed the entrance ramp of the freighter opening and closing. A minute later, Zorn Quolyg-Naryn and Maela Ulchnar slipped out of the Docking Bay.

_Sith carrier 'Glory', Cargo tunnel 5-B_

"Quickly, in here!" Maela whispered, as she opened the door of a small cupboard-like room. Both Jedi went in, and Maela shut the door behind them. Zorn laughed.

"What's so funny?" Maela asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Did you see those Sith grabbing their crotches and running? Haha, that was so damn funny!" Zorn wiped away a tear, and suppressed a laughing outburst with both his hands.

"I'm glad you're amusing yourself now. I thought you were all nervous and stuff?"

"Well, a comical interlude is an excellent stress reliever," Zorn said, panting with a grin on his face. "I've never enjoyed a Force Confusion as much as this one."

"How were you able to make that machine explode, anyway?" Maela curiously asked. "The only way I can manipulate metallic stuff is by bending it or breaking it."

"That's just because you don't understand machinery the way I do," Zorn said. "It's actually really simple, you just need to know some basic mechanical stuff."

"Ah," Maela replied. "You know, you'd make a horrible teacher, Zorn. 'You just gotta know it'. Way to explain something!"

"I'll take your advice into consideration. Now, how do we get to the tractor beam's maintenance?"

"How should I know? We need some kind of map to this place."

"Yeah. Wait!" Zorn got up, and messed with some sort of durasteel frame.

"What are you doing?" Maela curiously asked.

"This seems to be some kind of terminal," Zorn replied. "If I can just slice into it... There, I got it!" Zorn pulled some wires out of the wall and rubbed them together. He let his fingers slide over them and used a sharp pocket-knife to rummage in the opening. Suddenly, a hologram popped out of the wall. It showed the 'Glory' in its entirety.

"How did you...?" Maela began, but she was cut off by her Zabrak friend.

"Shh. Access tractor beam maintenance. Give shortest route from Cargo tunnel 5-b," he said, and the hologram widened. A red line was forming inside of the picture, showing what the shortest route was. Zorn retrieved his personal datapad and inserted it into the hidden terminal. "Download map and route descriptions to datapad. Erase all downloading logs after termination of procedures." After some bleeps, Zorn pulled his datapad out of the terminal. He closed it by putting the grating on it.

"Zorn, do you know you're awesome?" Maela asked him.

"Ah, well. It's just machinery. I'm not a Tech specialist for nothing, you know. But this is simple hacking, really. Didn't even need security spikes..."

"Still, to be able to understand wires and sparks of electricity the way you do... It's amazing!"

"Well, I probably can't kill 5 Sith with one haul of my lightsabre, so I guess we're a pretty balanced team, right?"

Maela smiled. Her silver doubled-bladed lightsabre was indeed known to do that when the opportunity presented itself. Zorn on the other hand, had barely ever drawn his lightsabre at all. He relied on his Force powers and his mechanical and piloting skills. Zorn always said that if he ever had to fight a war, he might as well do it in the insides of a ship. And to a certain extent he was right. But wars are always won by the infantry, or so Maela had learned from her well-respected Master. She thought of Master Daego for a second, and wondered what the situation was on Beneris right now. But then she focused herself back on the here and now.

"We need to go," Zorn decisively said, staring at his companion.

She nodded.

_Sith carrier 'Glory', Tractor beam maintenance_

"So let's get this straight," Zorn whispered. "We're going to bust in here, disable that damn tractor beam and run away?"

"No, we gotta be stealthy," Maela replied in the same hushed manner.

Both Jedi were hiding behind some plasteel containers at the entrance of the maintenance chamber. They had successfully remained undetected so far, but the tricky part was to stay that way. The entrance to the tractor beam's maintenance was a large gate, that could only be opened by a nearby console, and only if one possessed a valid entrance code. The entrance was on a crossing point between two corridors: a vertical and a lateral one.

"If you bust in there and start blowing up the place," the Jedi Knight continued, "they're going to make sure we don't get out of here alive. If that Fakan guy knows who we are and where we are, he's going to send so many Sith in our direction we'll never..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Zorn interrupted her. "Then what do we do? Mind dominations? Force distractions?"

"Also too dangerous," Maela said. "Our Force-cloak is beginning to wear off. If we use the Force too much, it'll shatter and this Fakan guy will feel our presence in a couple of seconds. And you know what happens from then on..."

Both Jedi didn't seem to know what to do next. Everything was risky, but they needed to do _something_...

"What if..." Zorn hesitantly began, "what if we just..."

"Just what?" Maela asked.

Zorn opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. A small patrol was heading their way. About 10 soldiers, fully armed with two vibroblades, a blaster pistol and a blaster rifle. They were lined up in a single file, making their numbers look bigger than they actually were. Steadily, they marched past the two Jedi, who were still hiding behind the grey containers. Maela's heart skipped a beat when she heard a strange, high noise coming from directly next to her. She was dumbfounded when she realised it was Zorn, softly whistling.

"What are you...?" Maela began, but Zorn laid his finger on his mouth, signalling she had to keep quiet.

The female human soon realised what Zorn's intention was, though. The last soldier in the group turned his head, and dropped out of the file. He grabbed his blaster rifle. Zorn whistled again, very softly so only his target would hear it. The soldier's patrol had turned around the corner, and he moved over towards the containers were the two Jedi were hiding. He wanted to know what the strange noise was, but didn't want to look like a fool if it turned out to be nothing. When he looked over the edge of the containers, Maela gave him a crushing blow with her large double-bladed lightsabre hilt. A sick crack emerged from behind his mask. He immediately fell unconscious, and the Jedi pulled him over the small plasteel construction.

"At least a fractured skull," Zorn whispered. "You didn't have to hit him so hard, you know."

"We can't afford to take our chances, Zorn," she answered. "Not in here."

The Zabrak sighed. "How many times do I have to say this, Maela? There is no..."

"Yeah, yeah, there is no such thing as luck, there is only the Force. Get him out of his armour, and quickly!"

Still slightly annoyed but silently, Zorn took off the soldier's mask. The Iridonian was shocked at how normal the man looked. He had only seen a Sith soldier fully armoured and armed, and to realise how simple a being they actually were did not strike him lightly. The unconscious guy looked like the average Joe, nothing more and nothing less. He could've been a Coruscantian merchant, a moisture farmer from Tatooine, a palace guard on Naboo,... He didn't look evil, nor demented or indoctrinated. He was just... a man. It was hard for Zorn to understand that this lifeless guy, when awake, would gladly kill him for the sake of an ideology greater than himself. Just as Zorn would, although only out of self-defence. The barrier between right and wrong eluded Zorn for a couple of seconds. And as he slowly but surely regained his determination to successfully complete his trials, he took off the rest of the man's armour.

"Put it on!" Maela urged. "Quickly!"

"But... The helmet..." Zorn protested. "My headspikes..."

"No worries," Maela said, "these helmets are far deeper than they look."

And to Zorn's surprise, she was right. It didn't exactly fit him like a glove, but even his Iridonian head had no problems putting on a standard Sith helmet. It made him wonder if there were many Zabraks in the Sith army, as the standard helmets had obviously been modified to fit as many types of heads as possible. He put on the rest of the shiny armour and Maela observed him.

"It suits you, Zorn," Maela joked. "It accentuates your cute little butt!"

"Very funny," Zorn's dampened voice replied. "Wait here!"

Zorn got from behind the containers and rapidly made his way towards the entrance doors of tractor beam maintenance. Once there, he skilfully hacked the override that kept them locked, and they opened with a swift _'swoosh'_. The concealed Jedi got inside, trying to spot the mainframe or any other essential power amplifier between the insanely complicated machinery. He spotted two of his presumed allies standing near a large console that was linked to a greenish orb that almost filled up a separate chamber, well fortified by triple layers of see-through duraglass. Several thick wires led from the chamber towards the console.

"Bingo," Zorn mumbled, and he approached them. "Excuse me, sir," he said, trying to make his voice as casual yet as military as possible at the same time, "I am here to update the system's hardware."

The two soldiers looked at each other. Zorn could read the confusion off their faces, which wasn't really a positive thing seeing they were wearing helmets as well.

"I do not recall a maintenance procedure supposedly taking place today," the smaller one of the two said. By his accent, Zorn guessed it was a Rodian. "Do you?"

"No," the other one replied, "no such order has been issued."

Zorn got a little bit more nervous. His hand subconsciously slid towards the blaster pistol that hung at his armour's waist.

"Stay here," the larger one said to Zorn. "I'll check with the bosses."

Zorn saw the Rodian Sith grabbing a rifle. He knew he was in a bad position, and didn't want to risk a thing. It was obvious they didn't trust him and were prepared to shoot the living hell out of him if they found out he was lying. As quick as lightning, he grabbed the blaster pistol and fired two shots. He hit the smaller Rodian right between where his eyes should be, and the larger one received a shot in the back of the neck. They dropped dead. Zorn admired his shooting skills for a second, then remembered that Jedi actually were only allowed to use violence for self-defence. He looked too much like his elder brother for a moment. It wasn't really to his liking.

"Great," Zorn sighed. "Now..."

He moved towards the console, but jumped up in surprised terror as he heard a voice through the intercom. He had hoped the soldier wouldn't have been able to make contact yet.

"What's going on there, we heard a shot!? Reply!" the slightly muted, steely voice demanded. Obviously an overseer in one of the control rooms.

"Erm," Zorn hesitantly began, trying to talk his way out of it, "nothing, just a small situation here, but we've got everything under control!"

"What happened?" the voice questioned.

"My... friend here slipped, and his blaster went off. Yeah, and he hit me. But we're all okay now!" Zorn cursed himself without making any sound. What a dumb line...

"I'll send in a medical team to check up on you both," the man at the other end of the comm said.

"No!" Zorn shouted, a bit harder than intended, "negative, negative, we just need some time to... eh..."

"What are you talking about? What's your ID Number?" was the suspicious question. Zorn began to sweat heavily underneath the durasteel plates he was wearing.

"I,er...I... ..._hhghjklkjhhhkjjjhhhggg..._weak_...thqgkklhkljhg..._signal_...khklhjgfhlkgj..._fixed_...xxxshhhhhh..._" Zorn harshly pressed on the communication button, severing all technological ties with the unknown man. He knew he had to be fast, as they would undoubtedly send in a team to investigate. He had screwed up, and he was now forced to damage the mainframe irreparably. But first, he injected his personal datapad into the override. This ship had some really powerful technology, and Zorn wanted to know everything about it. He downloaded every bit of information about the 'Glory's' tractor beam system he could find, and then planted a bug onto the machine that would continue to send positive signals to the central control room. That way, they might not even notice there was something wrong with the console. He retrieved some frag grenades from the pockets of his armour, and placed them on the console. He took a few steps backwards so he wouldn't get hurt by the detonation. All that remained was wrecked metal, some sparks and a heap of ashes. The green orb that had filled the sealed room before, disappeared. The tractor beam had been disabled.

"One down, two to go," Zorn said, quickly making his way out of the large hall. He took the two bodies of the dead soldiers with him, and placed them right in front of the entrance. If a team would ever come to investigate, they would find them here, not next to a destroyed console. And it was out of sight from here, so Zorn hoped they would never find out about what just happened here. As he left the hall, he uploaded an almost unhackable entrance code from his personal datapad into the doors' access console. He kissed it before putting it away. "What would I ever be without you, oh dearest creation of mine?" he whispered.

"Maela, follow me," he said a bit too loud as he neared the other Jedi's hiding place. "We're getting company soon, unless I'm badly mistaken!"

"What? Why?" Maela asked, slowly revealing herself from behind the containers. "What went wrong?"

"I had to shoot two soldiers. Someone heard it through the intercom."

"Oh, Zorn..." Maela said, shaking her head, then burying it in her seemingly delicate hands.

"Look, I... I'm sorry, okay?" Zorn stumbled, "they're just so... so paranoid around here. And you told me yourself I shouldn't use the Force! But I've covered my tracks as good as possible. It'll take them hours before they find out what has happened."

"Yeah, they should be paranoid. Otherwise they would've lost the war for dominance over the galaxy a long time ago. But remember that deaths also leave its traces in the Force. Here, in outer space, on a carrier packed with soldiers, they're easier to detect than on a crowded planet, you know."

"We're still cloaked aren't we?" Zorn quickly asked, hoping for an affirmative answer.

"Yes, although barely. But never mind. You seem to be quite resourceful, though... For a Padawan," she added with a fake belittling look on her face. Zorn raised his eyebrows. "Never mind," she said. "Let's go! Where to next?"

"The, er... Hyperdrive! This way!" he said, retrieving the holographic map on his datapad.

"It's going to be well protected," Maela stated as the two Jedi hurried themselves towards the hyperdrive engine room. It was three levels above them, so they had to take an elevator. There were two possibilities when the corridor they were walking in split into two.

"My datapad is telling me the shortest route is through there," Zorn said pointing to the corridor to their left. "But that brings us close to where all the soldiers are crammed. I'm guessing there will be a lot more patrols over there."

"So we take the other way?" Maela suggested.

"That's a possibility, but it will take us too close to the entrance of the engine room."

"What's so bad about that?"

"It's a large, open area without any place to hide. Besides, the entrance to a hyperdrive is always extremely well protected." Zorn shook his head. "Not a good idea."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Well, obviously we can't just barge through the doors. But there's another way..."

"Where?"

"Well," Zorn hesitantly began, "we could always go through there," he said pointing at a wall in front of them.

"Through the wall...?"

"Yeah, something like that. If my datapad is correct, there should be some sort of..." Zorn walked towards the wall in front of them, and touched it with his fingers. As if pulled towards him by the Force, it sprang loose, and a hole in the wall revealed itself.

"What the..." Malea wondered out loud. "How did you...?"

"It's a mechanical shaft," Zorn explained. "Every ship has lots of these, although only experts know how to open one up, let alone actually perform maintenance inside of them."

"Amazing."

"I'm warning you, though, it's not really spacious in there," the Iridonian said, putting one foot inside the hole, and squeezing his body through. In the shaft, his chest and his back were almost pressed against the wall. He made some way, so Maela could follow him in.

"I can barely breathe in here," Maela complained when she stood next to her fellow Jedi. "Lucky thing I learned that breath control trick. Where do we go from here?"

"We go up," Zorn said, making it sound casual. "We climb. Three levels. I suggest you use the wires to pull yourself up. But you might want to avoid the purple and red ones. They tend to give you nasty electric shocks when they snap."

"Thanks for the warning," Maela said and started climbing.

And with that being said, the two Jedi started their long ascent between the interior and exterior wall.

_Sith Carrier 'Glory', Hyperdrive engine room_

The large, roaring hyperdrive was a sight to behold. It was a gigantic structure, following up on the ship's reputation. It could effortlessly propel the enormous carrier into the fastest hyperspace tunnels, which was quite a feat. It made the sound of ten raging rancors, and it radiated so much warmth the engine room could easily heat up to 100°Celsius when activated.

This was something Zorn and Maela had not foreseen. While it was very helpful in keeping the guards away, it was a major nuisance ever since Maela sliced herself a way through the engine room's interior wall.

"Whoo, it's hot in here!" Zorn said the second he stepped through the smouldering hole. They had climbed for almost half an hour and both Jedi were exhausted.

"I had no idea it'd take so long to get here," Maela puffed as she stretched her arms. While she was quite strong for a woman, and a lot stronger than she looked, her bi- and triceps weren't used to this kind of workout. She rubbed them.

"Well, we're here now..." was Zorn's answer, while he looked at the hyperdrive in awe. He barely resisted the temptation to stroke it, only held back by the fact that he would most likely render his fingers useless for the rest of his life when touching such a heat-generating object.

"It's huge," Maela observed, also quite impressed.

"Biggest I've ever seen," Zorn agreed. "Not even 'The Brittanica''s engines can compare to this. And that sure means something," he continued with an amount of disappointed malcontent in his voice.

"You almost sound like you don't want to destroy it," Maela remarked.

"Well, it'd be a shame," Zorn confessed with a slight nod. "I mean, machinery like this is... remarkable to say the very least."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to kiss it goodbye soon nonetheless. I'm melting in here!"

"Very well," the Iridonian said, and he carefully placed two detonators on the exterior of the hyperdrive, careful not to touch the scorchingly hot metal. "Done. Let's get out of here..."

"Don't... Don't you need to activate them?"

"Oh no, I can detonate charges with my datapad from half a planet away. It'd be safer to detonate them while we're back in the 'Zany Zabrak'. And we don't want to fall out of hyperspace just yet. That would only raise suspicion, and I'm not in the mood for being hunted today."

'I guess so. Is there actually anything your datapad _can't _do?"

"Well, it can't order drinks, smoke deathsticks or play in a cantina band. But apart from that, it can pretty much do anything."

"Great. Now let's get out of here," Maela insisted, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. "I could use a nifty breeze. Damn Jedi Robes..."

Zorn stepped through the hole, back into the shaft. "Where to next?" he asked.

"You're the map reader," Maela said, "but there's only one thing left we have to do."

"The guns..."

"Yes."

"Where are they...?"

"There's only one place where we can fully disable the main cannons on both sides of the hull."

"The bridge?" Maela suggested.

Zorn nodded. "Yes, and that's also where usually the chief-in-command is. Which means..."

"Fakan," she completed. "We can take him."

"It's going to be dangerous, though. We have to disable those cannons, fight Fakan off, and find our way back to the freighter."

"Which is obviously guarded."

"And the dock will be closed off. Luckily this structure is too complicated to release all 900.000 soldiers upon us."

"Seems like we'll be chased down after all, then... Let's do it."

_Sith Carrier Glory, Maintenance Shaft 396-QK, bridge-level_

"You know, I'm getting rather fond of this kind of travelling," Maela said, when they halted their climb.

"Yeah, it's a lot better than hiding behind containers, huh?" Zorn agreed. "But we're going to have to make a run for it later on. I'm going to disable those cannons. You keep Fakan and the guards off me while I do it, okay? I'm not sure whether the technicians and operators are armed, but I'm sure I'll be able to handle them myself. When I'm finished, we run. No time for useless heroics."

"Got it."

_Sith Carrier Glory, Main Bridge_

Darth Fakan stared at the insides of the hyperspace tunnel. The electrical blue and the flashes of white were a true sight to behold. It reminded him of his lessons in Force Lightning back at the Sith Academy. It was something all students had to learn, although very few succeeded in actually producing electricity out of their fingertips and shooting it forth at someone or something. He was one of the few that was successful in doing it, but it was more of an electric shock than real lightning, let alone a storm. Darth Dorma, top of the class back in the day, could strike lightning bolts that would kill their instructors from the age of 9. He was the most naturally gifted Force user Fakan had ever seen. A lot of the Sith apprentices were jealous of him, and feared him. Some had tried to kill him, but paid a dear price. Fakan always was smart enough to blend into the background. He knew he wasn't powerful enough to make it to the top, so he relied on his wits rather than raw talent and skills. He much preferred his own life over death, he even preferred his life over ultimate power. He considered himself to be much more down-to-earth than other Sith. However, that didn't mean he couldn't be ruthless when he needed to be. Just like all others, he felt no remorse, no hesitation and he felt complete apathy for those those weak in body and mind. But when it came to battles that would decide who became the new leader of the pack, he preferred a minor role in things. He figured that if two powerful Sith were to destroy one another, he would have at least one rival less. It was a waiting game that most Sith didn't want to play, but Fakan didn't mind. Perhaps it was his Rodian nature... So when Darth Genocid had killed Darth Morlan, he was quite pleased. Especially when he had heard that Dorma had jumped ship and joined the Jedi. Right now, there were only a handful of Sith that were higher on the Sith's food chain than he was: Darth Genocid & Darth Jannays obviously, Darth Lucicon and Darth Kazura and a few others. But the mission he had been given was an indication of Lord Genocid's trust in him, which certainly counted for something. This also partially explained his nervousness. Succeed or pay the penalty for failure, that was the one rule he had to keep in mind. This transportation would make or break his career, and he could not come up with a single reason why it wouldn't work out just fine for him.

And still, something bothered him. An uncomfortable feeling that was traceable to the white freighter they had reeled in a couple of hours ago. Everything indicated there was no one on board. He didn't even sense anyone. And yet... It was like feeling a slight breeze stroking your cheek in a room that was completely void of air. He didn't know what it meant, but the fact that it was the freighter of the most feared of the Quolyg-Naryn brothers didn't exactly calm his mind.

The Sith Lord's body flinched. He heard something... He didn't know what it was, or where it came from, but it sounded strange enough to be suspicious. He turned around, looking away from the hyperspace tunnel. He saw nothing, except for the usual sight: officers walking around, giving out orders, gunners at their posts behind their cannons, soldiers patrolling, mechanics and tech experts doing their thing on the ship's many computers,... But a shiver went down his spine as soon as he realised what he had heard. It struck him when he had laid his hand on his waist. It was the activation of a lightsabre. And it came from inside the wall.

"Now!" Zorn shouted, and Maela drew a large circle on the wall with her silver blade of light. The reinforced durasteel melted, and an orange circle showed the place where the wall had been breached. Maela force-pushed it, and the cut disc flew out, slamming against two soldiers and knocking them down. Maela jumped through, and activated the other half of her double-bladed sabre. Zorn quickly followed her, but kept his lightsabre at his waist.

"Keep'em off me!" he yelled.

Maela twirled her lightsabre around, deflecting at least 50 blaster bolts in less than 5 seconds, shot at her by the patrolling soldiers that had immediately concentrated fire on the two hostiles. The Jedi Knight estimated their number about 60. Not every single bullet came near her and Zorn, luckily. She couldn't deflect much more than she was currently doing and she had a hard time protecting the Zabrak behind her back. Slowly, she moved towards the artillery controls, occasionally killing a Sith soldier by returning a well-aimed blaster shot..

"Kill them!" Maela heard a faintly familiar voice shout, and she realised it had to be Fakan. She had almost forgot about him, and felt his rage and anger now that she concentrated herself on him. But deeper down, she could distinguish fear. A very unhealthy form of fear... She lowered her lightsabre, and force-pushed the group of soldiers, that had unwisely concentrated itself in front of her. Not only did they make it easier for her to deflect their bolts because she had a smaller area to cover, it also made them more vulnerable to large-scale offensive force-powers. It was a weakness she gratefully exploited.

Zorn got from behind his companion's shielding flurry. He sprinted towards the gunners, who tried to get out of their seat. Some of them were reaching for their blasters, but most tried to flee. Zorn saved them the trouble. He lifted all 20 men up in the air, and slammed them into their own targeting monitors. It took a lot of Force Energy from the Iridonian and exhausted, he took place behind the mainframe that controlled the guns and cannons. "Give me 2 minutes, Maela!" he shouted.

The Jedi Knight fearlessly held her ground. She deflected bolt after bolt almost effortlessly, and those that were foolish enough to come in proximity to her deadly flashing blades were struck down before they realised what had happened. One by one, the soldiers fell, and their number grew so thin that Fakan realised this Jedi couldn't be stopped by a blaster.

"Incompetent losers!" the Sith shouted. He made a wild gesture with his arm, and the soldiers in front of him were swept away by what seemed to be an invisible wall. They slammed against the wall were the incapacitated gunners already laid. "I shall deal with this Jedi scum myself," he spat, and drew his lightsabre. The hilt was black with stripes of dark orange. The female in Maela couldn't help but think it was unfashionable. "You shall regret the day you decided to toy with us!" Fakan continued. "Activate intruder procedure 21-S!" he shouted at the pilots who were untouched by the violent happenings on the bridge. The pilot pressed two buttons, and an alarm went off, covering the entire chamber in a red flicker. The noise was deafening. Maela glanced at her Iridonian friend, who was pushing button after button, trying to disable the guns. Obviously it wasn't an easy hack he had to make, judging by the pearls of sweat on his forehead and the anxiety he emitted through the Force. Maela took a deep breath, and concentrated on the Rodian Sith Lord in front of her. He had a devious grin on his face. "Within 5 minutes, this place will be swarming with soldiers. Even a Jedi can't take thousands of them at once! I'm offering you an ultimatum, Jedi! Throw down your lightsabre, and surrender yourself to the mercy of Darth Genocid. Or die at my hand!"

Maela was untouched by his tough words. She had heard such threats before, from Sith far more powerful than this one. "Come get some, you little bum," she whispered without moving her lips.

Fakan struck first. He jabbed his blade at Maela, who deflected it with one side of her blade. She turned 180°, attempting to strike him down with the other end of her double sabre. Fakan bent his knees, and the silver ray of energy scorched his antennae. He attempted to push her away with the Force, but she blocked it. She hacked at her opponent, who blocked as well, engaging a sabrelock. Maela used her double-bladed advantage well. Fakan barely escaped when she shifted the leverage on her sabre from the upper blade to the lower blade, almost mowing the Rodian's legs away. Fakan jumped high into the air, and lifted his lightsabre high above his head, preparing to slam it onto the Jedi Knight. Maela took a couple steps backward, but she was still blown away by the impact of Fakan's landing. It was one of the best sabre-slams she had ever witnessed; it combined speed, power and accuracy, making it almost impossible for the opponent not to suffer from it in one way or another. Maela quickly got on her feet, but Fakan force-jumped towards her, his blade held to his side like a baseball bat. She had engaged an upward movement with her muscles and it was already too late to stop it and fall down just in time to avoid the deadly slash, so she stuck out her arms and unleashed a Force Push so powerful it sent Fakan flying the opposite way. She was amazed by the impact her Force Push had, and couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing that it probably had been so powerful as a result of her fear. She had always been told that fear led to the dark side, but for the moment, she thought it had its advantages. She peeked at Zorn, who was still working his tech magic on the mainframe. He didn't seem to be bothered by what was happening around him. It gave Maela some sort of confidence. It meant he trusted her enough to let his own guard down. Or maybe he was just being careless... But anyway, apart from the 15 pilots that were navigating the ship through its hyperspace-route, give or take a few, he didn't have to fear anything or anyone. The soldiers and gunners that had formed an obstacle were piled up against the wall, dead, suffocating, pretending to be dead, or wishing they were. But by any standard, she had to finish this as quickly as possible. She felt an enormous amount of angry Force Energy in the ship moving, concentrating and coming towards the bridge. Even if she could disable Fakan, which she wasn't even so sure of, she, they, could never defeat over a thousand soldiers by themselves, which still was only a fraction of the countless legions that were stationed in the numerous barracks in the lower levels of the carrier.

Fakan slowly got up. "You're merely buying time, Jedi," he said while wiping blood off the left corner of his mouth with his sleeve. "You can not escape."

"I beg to differ," was the semi-mocking response. Fakan grinned. Maela focused.

The Sith force jumped towards her so rapidly she barely had time to block his attack. She twirled around her silver blades, deflecting three of his attempted strikes at her head, thigh and sternum. His blade movement was incredibly fast and she could hardly keep up with him. Maela tried to counter by bending her knees and spinning her lightsabre in an attempt to slice his legs clean off, but he jumped high in the air. Again. But Fakan learned from his mistakes. This time, he jumped over the female Jedi, and force-pushed her. She got slammed to the ground, and Fakan dived down with his lightsabre held downwards, ready to deliver the deadly finishing blow. Maela looked at the falling Sith in terror. To her, it seemed to happen in slow-motion. Once again, fear gripped her, but this time it didn't bring her into a state of supreme concentration, it paralysed her. Her muscles seemed to freeze, and her brain gave up. The red blade that was nearing her face became blurry, and she gasped for air in a desperate effort to regain some consciousness. It did not help. She closed her eyes. Reality became an empty, black hole. She waited for the end to come. Her senses faded away. She became deaf, because she didn't hear the blade of pure energy tearing through her flesh and slicing through her bones. She became oblivious to pain, because she didn't feel the burning heat and stinging feeling that was associated with a lightsabre wound. She lost her smell, because she did not feel the scent of sweat and burning flesh prickling her nostrils. She waited for her to become one with the Force. She waited... Fakan should have hit her by now. Slowly she regained her senses. She heard a loud thud, and wondered what it was. She tore her eyelids open, and saw a panting Zorn Quolyg-Naryn standing over her.

"Time to go, Maela," his sympathetic voice said. Maela turned her head. 10 yards away from her, lay the body of Darth Fakan, a large, bleeding wound on the back of his head. Next to him lay a durasteel chair. Maela realised Zorn must have hit Fakan in mid-air with them. He had saved her life.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, locking eyes with the Zabrak.

"Don't mention it," he replied with a gentle smile. "We're here to watch over each other. But we really gotta go now."

Maela simply nodded. They made their way back to the gap in the maintenance shaft. 10 seconds later, 300 Sith soldiers stormed through the elevator onto the Bridge, bedazzled by the broken, lifeless pile of bodies before their eyes. The pilots, who were unharmed, filled them in on what just had happened. The second wave of soldiers that arrived had a medical team among them. They found the body of Darth Fakan among the dead. He was still breathing...

_Sith carrier 'Glory', Cargo tunnel 5-B_

"What took you so long, actually?" Maela asked Zorn when they were running towards the Docking Bay at full forced-up speed. "Couldn't you have just stuck your damn lightsabre into those artillery controls and get on with our very, very heroic escape?"

"Yes, I could have," the Zabrak replied, but you gotta look at things and do what you need to do to benefit us in the long run. I mean, if they see a totally destroyed artillery mainframe, they'll just tear it out, and place a new one. Now, they will need to see what I did, try to find a way to get rid of the virus I planted on it, come to the observation they haven't got the slightest chance in the universe to get rid of it, and then they have to destroy the hardware themselves to make sure the virus doesn't spread, before ripping it out and installing a new one. So, these two minutes bought us a whole lot more time, you see?" He explained it like it was the most normal thing in the world, while the entire ship was flickering in the red light of the deafening alarm.

"I guess so."

They halted at the gates of docking bay X475-CZ. "What's the plan?" Zorn asked.

"We storm in there, throw everybody off of our ship and get the hell out of here."

"Right." Zorn opened the docking bay doors that were held closed by a new security lock. It took him 1 second to bypass it. As soon as they entered the docking bay, they saw that their freighter was guarded by at least 100 Sith. A loud thud resounded throughout the bay, and Zorn immediately recognised the sound. "Maela, they're closing the airlocks!" he shouted. "We gotta hurry!"

The soldiers focused their attention towards the intruders. They aimed their blasters towards them, and shot. But Maela jumped forward, throwing herself into the middle of the pack. Just like before, they made the mistake not to spread out. Her silver blades sprung from the large hilt, and like a mad rancor, she hacked away at the defenceless soldiers that were keeping her and her companion from entering their ship. Those that stood near to Maela were mown down. Those that shot at her, got a blaster bolt returned to their face. Those that drew their swords and challenged her one-on-one, could not follow the blinding flurry of her lightsabre and were killed almost instantly. Almost all of the soldiers concentrated on taking out the Jedi Knight. Zorn force-gripped those that bothered him, and threw them away. With a minor detour, he entered the ship. Inside, it was already empty. He ran towards the cockpit, hoping Maela could stand her ground for just a few seconds longer. He sat himself down in the pilot's chair, and got the engines going. The trusty, familiar hum of the engines calmed him a bit, and as he took the steering yoke in his hands, he felt a warm glow rushing through his arms that spread itself through his entire body. This was what he lived for.

Outside, Maela had more and more trouble fending off all her opponents. A single bolt managed to get through her defence and bore itself in her left shoulder. She squeaked, and force-jumped onto the entrance ramp of the freighter that was slowly ascending. It closed, and now both Jedi were relatively safe from the raging blaster fire. Maela, resisting the excruciating pain, made her way towards the cockpit as well and sat herself down next to Zorn, who was navigating the 'Zany Zabrak' through all the cranes scattered around the docking bay.

"Hurry up before they close the airlock," Maela said, adding a squirm of pain under her breath.

"Hold on," Zorn semi-commanded. He twisted the freighter onto its side, and flew out of the airlock seconds before it closed. Zorn took out his datapad, and entered the detonation code he had programmed earlier. The bombs placed on the hyperdrive detonated.

_Sith Carrier Glory, Main Bridge_

"They have escaped the ship, my lord," one of the pilots informed Darth Fakan, who was still holding the back of his head in pain.

"Blast it," he said. "Reel them back in! They haven't gotten away yet."

"Very well, sir," the pilot replied, and he pushed a couple of buttons that activated the tractor beam. Nothing happened.

"Is it working?" Fakan asked.

"No, sir, something seems to be wrong. It's not doing anything."

"Damn it! How is that possible!?" he said, fuming with anger. He found it difficult to resist force-choking the pilot. "Then gun them down!"

"They have disabled our cannons, sir," the chief gunner informed the Sith Lord.

"Shit!"

The tiny freighter in the void of space in front of them suddenly vanished into hyperspace.

"In the name of the Dark Side, follow them!" Fakan commanded. "They can't get away!"

"Yes, sir," the chief pilot replied, and he pulled the switch that would normally allow them to make the jump to lightspeed. Again, nothing happened. "The hyperdrive isn't working, my Lord..."

"Argh!" Fakan shouted. He force-gripped the pilot, and choked him to death, saliva dripping out of the corners of his touted Rodian mouth in rage and bittered anger.

_The Outer Rim, hyperspace tunnel within 0.74 parsec of the Malastare system, Republic freighter 'Zany Zabrak', cockpit._

"We rule, Maela! We rule!" Zorn shouted, throwing his fists into the air. "Nobody could have done this better than the two of us, I'm telling you!"

"We make a great team indeed," Maela said with a smile. "But let's not get cocky. You still have a job to finish on Malastare."

"Yeah..." Zorn replied. A silence fell between the two Jedi. Zorn seemed to be somewhere else with his mind.

"What are you thinking of?" Maela inquired, for she could not read the thoughts of one so skilled in the Force as her Iridonian friend.

"Master Daego and Jaxxon," he truthfully answered.

"Why?"

"Well, when I was disabling the artillery, I also noticed something else. The ship's destination."

"Beneris?"

Zorn nodded without looking at her. "This is bad, Maela. I mean, we were in the ship that carried an invasion army. An army with its number close to a million. 900.000 soldiers, with only two things on their minds: enslaving and killing others. And Master Daego and Jaxxon will be right in the middle of it. The situation there is bad."

Maela kept silent.

"We need to inform Master Kraenos about this, Maela," Zorn said.

"Yes, and also tell him about what happened to us. And the fact that you will deal with the situation on Malastare a tad later."

"Yep," Zorn said, trying to make contact with the Jedi Temple. He laid the connection, but to his large surprise, it wasn't the head of Master Kraenos that appeared on the hologram projector, but that of his brother. Zaeyn.

"Zaeyn?" Zorn said in surprise. "Where is Master Kraenos?"

"Hello to you as well, little brother," the gigantic Zabrak said with a bright smile, amused by Zorn's desperate defiance and impoliteness. "Master Kraenos is in the Jedi Temple, in his chambers."

"But... You're there! I've laid a connection with his chambers!"

"No, you haven't," Zaeyn said, still smiling. "You see, I changed the numbers. When you call Master Kraenos, you actually call me instead. Smart, huh? I told you I've got some tech skill as well, even though you never wanted to believe me!"

"But why on coruscant would you change the numbers? That doesn't make sense!"

"Oh, no? Well, I just figured it might come in handy, especially in situations like these."

"What do you mean? What situation?"

"Well, for instance the fact you never arrived on Malastare, baby brother."

"How... How do you..." Zorn stuttered.

"I _am_ on Malastare, Zorn. I secretly wanted to keep an eye on you. And you're lucky I did, because if I hadn't, you would have failed your trials."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I arrived here, the situation was about to escalate. I managed to calm their tempers and come with a solution that fits both. Using your name. The entire planet is talking about an Iridonian Padawan that prevented a civil war between two superpowers on Malastare. You can sleep soundly. You have passed your Jedi Trials. You're lucky to have me as your brother, you know."

Zorn could not believe it. In his entire life, he had never ever heard, read or seen a story about a Jedi doing another Jedi's trials. He was certain it wasn't permitted.

"Isn't that, like... illegal? Against the Jedi Code?"

"Yes, it is," Maela suddenly fell in. "If somebody ever finds out about this, they're going to exile the both of you. If this ever comes out..."

"Well, I won't tell anyone if you two won't," Zaeyn casually said. "And they can't read our thoughts. We're too strong for that. But, Zorn, Maela, where in the name of the Force were you guys?"

"We got intercepted by a Sith carrier," Zorn said.

"Seriously?" Zaeyn asked, frowning heavily. "How?"

"That's something we do not know," Maela answered.

"But anyway, we need to get some vital information to Master Kraenos. And thanks to your stunt, we can't."

"I'll tell him," Zaeyn suggested. "Tell me every little detail about your little escape. I'll say it was I who was captured and escaped, and I'll give him whatever information he needs to hear."

Zorn sighed. He would walk away with the honour of disabling one of the biggest carriers of the moment. All by himself. The only thing they would credit him and Maela for was calming down two fuming Dugs. But perhaps it was for the best... And reluctantly, he told his brother the story.

_Next chapter: Jaxxon and his comrades break out!_

_Author's Note: Thanks for plowing through it all! I'd be thrilled if you could drop a review. Next chapter will be much shorter (this one was 12.000 words). Thanks to those who have stuck with me, I really hope you're enjoying the story so far. Things you like/dislike, plot holes you have spotted, character flaws,... They're all welcome. My goal is to improve, how else can I achieve my dream of becoming a BioWare writer, right? ;-) See y'all.  
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	13. Chapter 13

Okay, so it's been like... what? A couple of months. Damn gaming-addiction of mine, I blame it all on Oblivion! I've been harshly neglecting my duties as a writer. But no more! I hope... Anyways, here's the next chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it! It's relatively short, though, but action-acked!!

**Chapter 13: Old habits die hard... Sith don't**

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. Principal slave quarters, execution area 50-J._

Jaxxon Dorma traced his abdominal scar with his index finger. With his back against the dirty, moist wall, he ignored the other slaves. Since his victory a couple of hours ago, he needed some time alone. He always did after battle. Especially one such as this. It had drained him completely. He needed to recharge, and there was no better way to do that than resting or meditation.

Jaxxon closed his eyes, scratching his scar with his nails. He had healed it as rapidly as possible, but it had left a nasty mark on his belly, and it was still vulnerable. The flesh was still weak and soft around it, and the pathetic protective attempt of the human body called scab annoyed Jaxxon. Not only would it limit his movements the coming hours, it was also ugly. Not that he was a particular narcissist, but he liked looking good. And in his current state, he didn't. He was shaven bald prior to the battle in the arena, and the dirt, blood and sweat stuck to him like Zorn's fingers to his beloved datapad. He had no clothing, save for the boxer shorts that barely covered his genitals. Master Daego had not given him his robes back, and none of the slaves had any clothing to spare. Not even for their saviour. So there he sat. Tired, drained, smelling and looking like Ronto crap. And he was hungry. And thirsty. But they had received no food. No water. No juma extract. He softly cursed, discontent with his current situation. He had always been on top of the galaxy. When he was a Sith Marauder, people bowed before him in awe and fear. When he joined the Jedi, he received love and friendship, at least from some. Never before had he been in this position. He even preferred lying underneath Master Daego's two flashing lightsabres, ready to slice his head off. Even then he had retained some shred of dignity. It was horrible being a slave, and being treated like this. Silent anger was boiling underneath his scar. Freedom should be a right for every being in the Galaxy.

The other slaves, about 38, 15 of which had fought with him in the arena as well, weren't better off. Most of them were discussing their immediate futures. Jaxxon wished he could help them. Heal those that were bleeding their own guts out. Feed those that were going mad out of hunger. Lessen the thirst of those that could barely speak any more. Warm those that were freezing in the cold cells. But he couldn't. Not yet, at least. The remaining amount of Force Energy he had left, he needed for himself. Otherwise he would recharge much slower. And when they would break out of here, which was inevitable, he believed they would be better served with his offensive Force Powers than with his ability to generate heat and heal wounds. It would only cause them to die more slowly. If he recharged, if he stored enough to get him up and running again, they would stand a chance. They could bust out of here. They could be free again, even if it would only be between that moment and the next battle. So he soaked himself in the Force. He almost drowned in it. It was like a sponge soaking up water, ready to squeeze it back out if necessary. Jaxxon had his limits, and he liked testing them. He always had.

Even when he closed his eyes, the Jedi could see the others secretive, hopeful stares. He realised some of the Mared slaves thought he was a hostile anomaly, but he knew there were some that trusted him. He was unsure what they wanted of him, though. Jaxxon knew he couldn't save them all. He would try, but it was impossible. A lot of those who would eventually choose to follow him would die along the way. Protecting others wasn't exactly his speciality. Almost all of his life, he had used the Force for self-preservation and destruction. It was difficult having to use it for the benefit of others, especially now that Master Daego wasn't with him. On Tatooine, he had his help and he could unleash his powers upon the rancors without really having to think of social consequences. Now there was a group of people who relied on him. Trusted him. At least, he thought they did. He had to figure out whether they would follow him or not. And since he didn't speak the language of the Mared, that would be difficult. If it were not for the Force.

"Kieran," he softly said, attracting the attention of the ex-soldier who had been sitting a couple of yards away, having a discussion with Lara and 2 other Mared. He stood up, and so did Lara. The other two stayed where they were. Kieran and Lara sat themselves down next to the Padawan.

"Kieran," he began, "I've got a favour to ask of you."

"Ye can ass' the I ev'ryting and 'ting, bredda. If I can do, the I will do," he said in his crazy Rastionan interpretation of Galactic Basic.

"Great. I need to learn your language. There are too many of your kind I can't communicate with."

"Isn't it a little late for a speed-course?" Lara intervened.

"Most Jedi don't learn other languages through means of datapads and archives, Lara," he told the Twi'Lek girl. "We use the Force to duplicate an understanding of a certain language and paste it into our own head. We see the object or symbol associated with each combination of letters, which gives us a very abstract but effective and complete understanding of a language."

"Ye wan' rummage in I an' I's head and ting?" Kieran asked, slightly raising an eyebrow. It was barely noticeable above his large eyes, but Jaxxon also felt his discomfort.

"If you don't mind... Yes. But it's nothing to worry about, my friend," Jaxxon said while looking Kieran straight in the eyes. "You don't have to worry about me searching for all kind of offensive stuff. I'm not here to judge you, and I'm certainly not here to punish you for anything you may have done in the past... I'm just here to help you. All of you. And for that, I need to be able to speak to everyone. Freely, without restrictions. You can help me do that."

"Why not some else of onna dem uvva Mared, me bredda?"

"Because I trust you the most," Jaxxon truthfully answered. "You were a great soldier and you still are a great warrior. You have an understanding of warfare the others don't have, I noticed that out in the arena. When we break out of here, you will be my most valuable helper, Kieran. Of that I'm certain. That's why I want to use you as the middleman for the language duplication, so to speak. But if you wish me not to get inside your head, then I will obey your wish. Because I respect you."

This seemed to have touched the loud-mouth Mared. He stared at the ground, pursing his wide and ultra-thin lips. He let out a soft and slow sigh. "Ye kno', I has nuttin' but one love and respect for ya, ya kno' Jax. You's a righteous bredren an' a major Don. You's no dogheart, ya kno', an' after what I and I saw in dem arena... I gotta say thatcha, me main man, are the only person on dem entire planet who can save us from dem bloodclot Shelee 'n Sith 'n shit, seen? The I will follow ya. And do w'eva it takes to help ya, ya kno'. Do wha'tis ya neetta do." Kieran closed his eyes, and folded his triple-jointed arms. Lara looked at him, then at Jaxxon. The Padawan had found it difficult to understand Kieran's strange dialect, but had understood nonetheless that Kieran had consented.

"Very well," Jaxxon said. "Thanks, pal. Just... Relax. Don't try to shut your mind off. It'll make it harder for both of us."

Slowly, Jaxxon used the Force to enter the Mared's mind. It was the first time he performed this technique as a Jedi. He had done it a lot of times, but as a Sith. As Darth Dorma he had learned countless other languages through the Force, but had used an entirely different method. He ripped the language out of their heads without their consent, destroying all mental barriers and resistance in the process. He stole the entity of language from them, which often resulted in severe brain damage, or even death when performed sloppily and hastily. Now, he used a more gentle method he had learned from Master Daego some days after their battle on 'The Brittanica'. It was a lot harder to pull off, because the Jedi needed to be able to stop thinking of language in ways of words, agreements and rules. He had to be able to think of the new language in ways of images and symbols that represented a certain combination of letters.

That was exactly what Jaxxon did. He found the parts in the brain associated with the language of the Mared and duplicated the brain waves and signals through the Force, after which he planted them inside his own head, and in that of Lara as well. He had never attempted to plant a language inside of someone else's head, and it was more difficult than he had expected. Lara was much more strong-willed than Jaxxon had given her credit for. But after about a minute, he gently bypassed the mental obstacles in Lara's brain, granting her the knowledge of the Mared language as well.

"_I think it's done" _Jaxxon said in the Mareddian tongue.

"Wicked," Kieran remarked as he opened his eyes. He grinned a long, wide grin that almost touched his sharp, stumpy ears. "Mad Jedi-skills, ya kno'."

"_Speak to me in your native language,"_ Jaxxon requested. "I wanna see if I can understand you," switching back to Basic.

"_Like this, you mean, my friend?"_ Kieran asked, and Jaxxon smiled. He actually understood him better than before, as Kieran did not speak a strange dialect in his mother tongue.

"Something strange is going on here," Lara said. "I can understand the two of you while talking Mareddian. How is that possible?"

"When I pasted it into my own head, I also granted you the ability to both understand and speak it," Jaxxon explained. "I figured that might come in handy."

"Cool," Lara smiled. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem. But now, I have to recharge a bit more. I'm feeling something strange, and I don't like it. In fact, I would say I..."

"Have a bad feeling about this?" Lara completed for him.

"Precisely. How do you know?"

"Just a wild guess."

_Sith Carrier Glory, Main Bridge_

"How are the repairs coming along?" Darth Fakan asked one of the Sith Apprentices he had given the order to keep him up-to-date on the repairs of the ship.

"The hyperdrive is still badly damaged, my Lord," he replied. "Beyond repair, or so it seems. We have already given the order for another carrier to deliver us a new one."

"Good," Fakan said. "The hyperdrive is our highest priority. Once it's fixed, we can get this ship to Beneris. Dismissed."

"Yes sir," the Sith Apprentice said, saluting his superior and walking away.

Fakan boiled inside. He had been humiliated by two Jedi who weren't even Masters yet. It even appeared the youngest Quolyg-Naryn was still a Padawan. He did not dare to think what might happen if the other Sith Lords found out about this. They would probably kill him for his failure. That was one of the reasons he was so nervous. 10 minutes ago, he had received a holo-message from Darth Genocid, ordering him to set up a holo-meeting with the Sith Council. Reluctantly, he moved towards the holo-transmitter and set up the link. Almost immediately, 10 seats appeared on the projection, all of them occupied by a Sith Lord. From left to right, Fakan saw Darth Lucicon, Darth Kazura, Darth Aries, Darth Prime, Darth Jannays, Darth Genocid, Darth Taere, Darth Saebin, Darth Etwan and Darth Gage. He swallowed upon seeing all his superiors look at him.

"Fakan," Genocid said as a manner of greeting. Of course Genocid wasn't present in the Sith Council Chambers, but it made him no less intimidating. "We understand there is a delay. You were supposed to deliver nearly a million Sith troopers to Beneris a couple of hours ago. What's the hold up?" He articulated every word of his question very clearly and slowly. It was obvious he was malcontent. Luckily for Fakan, he had prepared some lies. If the Force was with him, they might not see through them.

"We met with an uncharted asteroid field. We flew right into it at lightspeed, but were able to avoid catastrophic damage. Apparently this hyperspace route isn't as safe as I thought. The hyperdrive had an emergency shut-down however and was fried due to an overload. The cannons met with some large asteroid chunks and were disabled. Some asteroids also hit our tractor beam. We're lucky most of our shields were turned on full power. Otherwise, the ship could've been destroyed."

"What happened to your head?" Jannays asked, even though she didn't give a damn about him. "Seems like you hit yourself pretty hard," pointing at the bandages the medical team had applied after he had been hit by the youngest of the Quolyg-Naryn brothers.

"There was... mutiny. Aboard '_the Glory'._ I had to deal with them. I had to kill quite a lot of them single-handedly."

"Mutiny?" Darth Aries asked. "How come?"

"Most troopers are displeased with the enslavement of the Mared, my Lord. They seem to think the Shelee would've made better slaves and hey do not like it when their wishes are ignored."

"I've never heard such a thing before," Genocid interrupted.

"Me neither," Darth Prime agreed, "and even if they are displeased, you should've been able to prevent this mutiny from happening. They didn't fear you enough, Fakan. That's why this... thing happened."

"Most soldiers fear the crack of their Master's whip more than the swords and blasters of their enemies," Darth Kazura agreed. "Prime is right. You could and should have prevented this. You were lazy. Then again, you always were a slothful dodger."

"Seems like you've been hit by an extraordinary amount of bad... luck!" Darth Saebin said. "But we all know there is no such thing as luck."

"My Lord, I assure you, there..." Fakan began, but he was cut off by Darth Genocid.

"Shut up. You showed you have no control over a large group of people. That's why I'm not granting you a position in the Council, Fakan. You have not yet proven yourself worthy."

"But..."

"Enough!" Jannays interrupted. "Tell us: when will you arrive on Beneris?"

"Within a couple of days. Two, probably," Fakan informed them.

"You've got 24 hours," Genocid said. "Now we've got that out of the way, I want to discuss something else..."

"What exactly?" Darth Prime asked.

"Dorma."

"What about him?" Jannays enquired, straightening her back in her chair, as if struck by interest.

"Some of you know, others do not," Genocid continued, "but he's here on Beneris."

"Alone?" Aries posed.

"No, not very likely. I sense no one else but Dorma, but that's one more reason to assume that blasted Daego's here as well. Somewhere..."

"I hate that guy," Lucicon murmured. "He cost me my ear," he recalled, pointing at the side of his head. His long, grey hair covered his injury. "That was a close shave."

"Yes, wel, that just proves he's dangerous to us. He's crafty, stealthy and deadly. And extremely influential," Genocid reminded the rest.

"Well," Darth Aries picked in, "we saw that when he convinced Dorma to join them, didn't we?"

"Yes, but that's not what worries me," Genocid replied. "Dorma is just one man, whom I can dispose of if need be. I already have made plans to exterminate him. Daego poses a more serious threat. He could build an army out of weepy grains of salt... Imagine what he could do with a mob of vengeful Mared."

"Do you think they stand a chance against our army, Master?" Jannays asked. "After all, the Mared are weakened and untrained. And probably also outnumbered."

"They've got one of the most powerful Jedi of our Age at their side. Daego is not to be underestimated! I will not make the mistake my Master made when he sent Dorma to assassinate him."

"Then how do you plan on dealing with Daego?" Saebin asked.

"Obviously," Fakan intervened, "he needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later, right? Perhaps I can localise him, and duel him."

"Don't start talking bullshit, Fakan," Darth Gage mocked. "You wouldn't last a minute against him." Several of the other Sith mockingly grinned, and Fakan, humiliated, kept his mouth shut.

"Fakan has a point, though," Genocid said. "He _has _to be dealt with sooner rather than later. And if we can't kill him personally, then we can at least slow him down. Or make him suffer several setbacks."

"Why not send the entire army to destroy him and his tiny group of followers now that he's still vulnerable? Surely he wouldn't survive a full-scale attack of the army Fakan's delivering," Darth Saebin suggested.

"Daego would likely cause a massacre amongst my troops," Genocid replied. "I can't afford such losses when I have not yet smitten down those awful Shelee."

"Speaking of which, when will you deal with them?" Prime asked.

"As soon as Fakan arrives."

"Then perhaps it would be wise to send Fakan to deal with Daego personally after all," Aries said. "If he succeeds, he will have proven himself. If he fails, he will bear the consequences. It will certainly give him a setback, even if Fakan fails," he continued, not caring about the fact Fakan could hear everything he said.

"I agree," Prime nodded.

"And what about Dorma?" Jannays asked.

"I will deal with him and that pathetic group of slaves in a couple of minutes..." Genocid replied. "He will not come far. 2 days from now, our 2 most dangerous opponents will be dead, and then the path will be cleared. After that we can start selling the Mared-slaves and gain the funds to raise an army the galaxy has never seen before!"

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. Principal slave quarters, execution area 50-J._

"So," Lara sighed, "I guess all we can do now is wait, right?"

"Wait?" Jaxxon questioned while raising an eyebrow. "Wait for what? For Genocid's assassins to come kill us? Or much, much worse, for Genocid himself to come kill us? I don't think so..."

"Then what?"

"The time has come..." the Padawan stated. "We can't wait any longer. Genocid's up to something, I can feel it."

Jaxxon closed his eyes. It was time...

"_LISTEN UP!!!!" _he shouted in the language of the Mared, the power of his voice increased tenfold through the Force. The clamour of the other slaves faded away, and all eyes directed themselves towards the Padawan.

"My friends, as you all know we are the victims of a treacherous coup. One that did not only involve the Shelee, a species you have shared this planet with for countless years, but also the Sith, greatest enemy of the Republic and the Jedi Order for as long as records can indicate. You were enslaved for selfish reasons, from which both the Shelee and the Sith will profit. The Shelee will finally have dominance over Beneris and the Sith empire will undoubtedly be stronger than ever, which of course poses a severe threat to the galaxy as we know it. I, as a Jedi, will not rot here in this prison and see how the Sith destroy everything my Order stands for!"

Here and there were whispers of approval. Most looked fascinated at Jaxxon.

"Now... I'll be honest with all of you," he continued, "the threat we are facing is big. Really big. But no matter what, we need to do something. We need to... break out of... here!" he said, pointing at the walls and doors that kept them. "I can get all of you out, but where we go from there is another thing. We will be pursued, many will try to kill us and many will succeed. I would lie should I claim that casualties will be limited. I don't exactly know what you want from me, what you expect from me and if I can realise all of this. Just know that I will do my utmost best to get as many of you as possible out of here. I just want to know who will follow me..."

Loud whispers evolved through the slave quarters. Many looked at each other frightfully, some found inspiration in the Jedi's words. A couple of Mared raised their voices.

"And what do we do when you... bust us out?" a Mared with a particularly nasty scar over his right eye questioned.

"I don't really know," Jaxxon confessed. "I know what we should be looking for, but I don't exactly know where it is."

"And where do we need to go exactly? Because maybe you haven't noticed, but it's kind of crawling with enemies out there," he said with a cynical undertone in his voice.

"To my Master. He's wise, powerful,... He'll know what to do. He's here on Beneris, I know it, I have felt it. He has come back for a reason, and that is to defeat the Sith and Shelee and give us back our freedom. With my help, he can realise that. But I shall need help as well. So... Who's with me?"

"I am," Kieran decisively said, and positioned himself somewhere behind Jaxxon. Lara immediately followed.

"So am I," the Twi'Lek said.

A couple more Mared followed their lead, and soon more than half of the slaves had taken place behind the Jedi. Some had stayed, among them the guy with the scar.

"We're not going," the stubborn Mared decisively stated. "I'd rather die with some dignity, than to be shot in the back while running away."

"Dignity?" Jaxxon shouted in a mocking tone. It was unintentional, but he could not hide his disbelief. "You're talking about dignity? I thought dying with dignity meant dying with honour. And where is the honour in letting yourself and those behind you get slaughtered by a bunch of raging lunatics for the sake of entertaining a bloodthirsty mob? Can you answer that? Isn't there more honour in standing up for yourself and fighting for what you love? Or do you have nothing to protect, maybe? Because if that's so, then I pity you, sir. But there is always _something _to protect. And you know what it is? It's this planet. Beneris. The very earth you're walking on. The air you're breathing. That's worth protecting! After so many years of suppression, you can finally be free again. And if you should die,... Well, then at least you have died for a much worthier cause than satisfying the Shelee's blood-lust."

Jaxxon felt he was getting angry. He did not understand the Mared's reasoning. He didn't understand why anyone would choose such a fate over busting out and making a last stand. But his words had some effect at least. The scar-eyed Mared seemed to rethink his situation, and finally shrugged.

"Fine then. I'll come with you on your reckless crusade. But don't make me regret this, Jedi!"

"I will not," a relieved Jaxxon assured him. "Everybody ready? Then it's time. I can feel Genocid making his move."

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. Underground corridor 21-OB in the slave dungeons._

Darth Genocid was boiling on the inside. He didn't like it when his plans were suffering from setbacks. Especially if they were caused by the incompetence of others and the skills of a Jedi. Sometimes, he took matters in his own hands. He had done it when one of his cruisers was raided by Rodian strike forces, he had done it when Morlan had to die, and he would do it now Dorma was undoubtedly trying to escape.

Despite everything, he still held a great admiration for the kid. Of course he despised him and everything he stood for, but even the Dark Lord of the Sith himself could not deny his skill and destructive power. He knew for certain that Darth Dorma would've been the only one to bring his reign as Dark Lord in danger. But with the restraints of the Jedi Order upon him, Genocid was adamant Dorma was no longer a match for him. When he first heard about Dorma's betrayal, his initial reaction was disappointment. After all, he was a very useful ally. But now, he reckoned it could actually work to his advantage. Now he could kill him more easily, and he had lost a major rival.

Silently but swiftly, he made his way towards the execution area Dorma was locked up in. He felt things stir, and got more nervous with every step. The Force told him a big lump of Force energy was holed up in that area, ready to be unleashed. Dorma was prepared, and he would give everything he had, Genocid knew this. But Dorma's main priority was to survive and protect. Genocid only had to kill. That would make the job a lot easier. He just hoped he would get there in time. Because he knew Dorma could sense his presence as well as he could sense Dorma's. He quickened his pace once more. But suddenly, he felt the same Energy he had felt before slowly but surely being distributed. Dorma was one step ahead of him, and now he had to play catch-up. He hated pursuit. But... Suddenly Genocid stood still. This was interesting... And with a slight grin, he stroked his beard and turned around.

_Beneris. Sheleepolis. Principal slave quarters, execution area 50-J._

The slave quarters were extremely well guarded. Over 50 guards stood lined up outside the cell door reinforced with durasteel, in a pretty tight corridor. From then on, it was a maze. Only someone with a map or a highly skilled Force-sensitive could find his way. Luckily for Jaxxon, he was just that.

"Stand back," he commanded, and he pointed his hands towards the door. He took a deep breath. And with a powerful force-thrust the massive door flew out of its hinges, squashing at least five surprised guards in the process. Lightning quick, Jaxxon force-grabbed the nearest guard, and threw him at the other Shelee. Five more were taken down. They started shooting, but the Padawan elevated the corpses of the incapacitated soldiers, creating a living shield. They shot their own companions, forcing them to stop shooting. So instead, they drew their swords. But before they could penetrate Jaxxon's improvised barrier, it got thrown at them. Bodies flew everywhere. Most of the Shelee Jaxxon had used as a shield were pierced by the blades of their partners. Others fell to the ground, too afraid to move even a muscle.

"Let's go," Jaxxon shouted, leading his fellows out of the large prison cell. When they went past a dead body, they took a weapon. Jaxxon grabbed a vibrosword, while Kieran took two vibroblades. Lara was the last one to come out. She grabbed a simple blaster pistol. Jaxxon patted her on the back as she ran past him, and then something happened he had not foreseen. He heard a loud shot, coming from somewhere inside the field of broken bodies. Lara fell down. Jaxxon's face turned pale. He caught her before she hit the ground, and turned her face towards his. A nasty open wound was showing on her chest, still smoking from the laserburns.

"No!" Jaxxon shouted, and when he peeked past the Twi'Leks head, he saw the Shelee who shot her. He was smaller than Jaxxon was, which made him think the shooter was very young. He seemed to be very afraid, and the pistol was shaking in his hand. Jaxxon felt something come over him he hadn't felt for a long time. Rage. Fury. Hate. With one flick of his hand, he elevated the young soldier, and squeezed his throat shut. The Shelee gasped for air, and when Jaxxon thought about the crime this boy just had committed, he forgot everything Master Daego had ever taught him. The corners of his mouth went down. Blue electricity flew from his fingers, crackling in the air and on his victim's skin. The skin blackened, and large blisters and wounds opened up everywhere. He was covered in a Force Lightning, a technique Jaxxon hadn't used since facing his Master. And when the Padawan felt the Shelee life-energy disappear, he let go. The smoking piece of flesh fell to the ground and bedazzled, Jaxxon looked at his hands and at the burnt up organic flesh he had just robbed from its life. He felt fear come over him. He didn't know what to do. It was not until he saw Lara in the corner of his eyes, that he realised what he needed to do. Quickly, he picked his female friend up, and looked her in the eyes. She was still breathing, but barely...

"It's going to be okay," Jaxxon whispered in her ear. "You've saved my life, now I'm going to save yours. Again." And with those words, he ran towards the rest of the group, who were already well in front of him. When arriving at the first split, he caught up with them again. When they saw what had happened to Lara, many Mared thought she was dead. Jaxxon reassured them, telling them that she could still be saved. But that time was of the essence. Kieran offered to carry her, so Jaxxon could concentrate on finding the way. Somewhat reluctant to let go of her, Jaxxon handed her over. And he turned left.

_Iqukejab, Master Daego's headquarters_

The Weaponmaster buried his head in his hands. He did not believe what he had just felt. Strong dark-side energies coming from where he had previously felt his Padawan. That meant bad news. Either Jaxxon had a relapse, or either he was killed by a Dark Lord he had not felt before. This was bad...

"Master Daego," said a freed Mared slave that came into his office, which previously served as Mnnjk's living room. "We have captured the last of the remaining Shelee, and rescued the last one of the slaves. The town is ours," he added with a tone of pride in his voice.

"Good job," Daego said, even though he had other things to worry about right now. "I'll come inspect everything within a couple of minutes."

The Mared left, and Master Daego stood up. He walked over to the wall, and slammed it with his fist. "Damn it, Dorma! Why are you doing this to me!?"

_Next chapter: Master Daego wants to find his Padawan, but is faced with an army of angry Shelee who try to retake Iqukejab. Meanwhile, Jaxxon tries to keep his friends alive, and Zorn and Maela receive some good news from Master Kraenos._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – One for all**

_Iqukejab, Master Daego's Headquarters_

Silently, Jenson Daego observed the empty black robes lying on his desk. He thought. And the more he thought, the less sense it all made. Jaxxon's emotions had always been strong and had sent a clear and recognisable message through the Force. They had expressed one thing: fury. It was shrouded in the dark side, as if his actions had been drawn from this particular Force-essence. Master Daego knew this, because he had felt it. He could tell straight away when something was tainted, and he probably understood the fine line between light and dark better than any other Jedi, by reading memoires of old Masters and Sith Lords. It was what had enabled him to save his Padawan to begin with. Now, it might all have been for nothing. But Master Daego refused to believe it. The last couple of months, he had seen the real Dorma. A spontaneous kid who likes a laugh and is eager to learn. He hadn't associated him with the deadly Sith Marauder for a long time. Then again, this was the first time they had been separated ever since his redemption. He feared Jaxxon needed his guidance and counsel to keep him on the path of light. And that was exactly what he was lacking at the moment. And the risk was too great.

Master Daego stood up, slamming the palms of his hands onto the desk. He needed to find him, as soon as possible. He had liberated an entire town, and would love to continue and form an army of rebels like he had promised the Jedi Council, but he needed to prioritize. He needed to know what had happened, so he could alter his plans accordingly. And there was only one way to find out.

He put the robes and the black lightsabre in his wide, deep pockets. He looked at his own two swords swinging at his waist, took a deep breath and stepped out the door.

It was raining outside. Beneris had about the strangest climate imaginable. In the days he had been here, the weather had varied from hot and sunny to cold and rainy. Rain depressed the Weaponmaster. It felt like the planet spat out the digested waste it had soaked up. Like poison is rejected by the liver. And knowing that almost everything was going wrong, Daego had problems letting serenity prevail inside of him. He stepped outdoors, the rain pouring down on his short, brown hair. After half a minute, his robes were already soaked, and he hastily made his way towards the town's outer guarding post he had set up, which was occupied by two Mared. The former slaves had all gladly accepted him as their leader and had absolutely no problems executing his orders. They were obviously grateful, and their faith in the Jedi Order, or in him, seemed great. That was one of the main reasons he regretted leaving. But it had to be done.

"Everything all right, guys?" he asked when he stepped inside, grabbing a nearby cloth and drying his hair with it. He outpost was rather small, a hastily made wooden cabin large enough to hold five people at most. Inside were some chairs they had taken from one of the many cantina's in town, and a small, round table. One large window oversaw the plains next to the village, but due to the heavy rain, they couldn't see far.

The two 'guards', carrying a single blaster pistol and no armour for protection, mumbled something in their language, but the smile on their faces gave away they felt no disdain for the, to them, alien. Master Daego had some knowledge of their language, and translated their reply into 'just the water of the Gods outside, master Jedi'. It was a puzzling answer, and he did not know what to think about it. He decided to inquire further.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, in the stuttering, guttural, clacking language the Mared spoke. It was a funny language, but insanely difficult for a human to speak. Mared had slightly different vocal chords and mouth structures. That meant it was difficult, but not impossible for a human to make himself understandable.

"The Gods are giving us water," the guard replied. "The essence of life. We are very grateful for it."

"Indeed," the other Mared agreed, "without the Gods, we would not be here right now. We owe them everything."

Master Daego, intrigued by finding such profound religiousness in this small wooden cabin, continued asking questions.

"Which Gods do you honour?" he asked, sitting himself down on the edge of the round table.

"Three," the smaller one of the two answered, "Mae'r'falts, Lai'k'tsant and Fyyl't'peña."

"The divine trinity," the other added. "One to create life, on to take it, and one to manage it. That is how we are guided, master Jedi."

Master Daego respected the religions certain species possessed, even though he did not believe in anything but the teachings of the Jedi Order. But his own master, the late Jedi Weaponmaster Ulras, had taught him to always keep an open mind about such things. _'It is not our task to instruct a way of life, or impose it upon them. Our only obligation is making sure they have the freedom and self-awareness that allows them to live in a manner that best suits them and their beliefs.' _It was a lesson he had always remembered. And he liked to know more about the Mared in general.

"So you have three Gods?" he asked.

"Exactly," the smaller Mared said, "Mae'r'falts creates life. It is through her that we are born, it is she who created the air we have to breathe and the planet we live on."

"Wretched though it is," Master Daego thought, but he didn't say it out loud. He didn't want to offend them.

"Lai'k'tsant takes life. It is he who decides which ones of us die, it is he who orchestrates wars and crime, plotting schemes against every single creature whose time has come. We do everything we can to appease him."

"Why appease a God that kills you?" Master Daego wondered, this time out loud.

"So that he might spare you," was the simple answer. "Lai'k'tsant is not an evil God. He shows mercy if you are kind to him. By creating life, Mae'r'falts also created Lai'ktsant, who makes sure the new lives can live their due time without being overwhelmed or repressed by an immortal, almost uncontrollable crowd. He is as much part of this world as anything other. Our deathgod selects people carefully though. Creatures with dangerous jobs, like soldiers or mercenaries, are on top of the list."

"Why not Jedi as well?" Master Daego asked, "we have quite dangerous jobs as well, you know."

"Yes, but you are protected by the Gods. You are chosen by the Gods. Some Mared could envy you for that, therefore not liking you. Call it prejudice if you will. The divine trinity has given you powers that transcend those of mere mortals, enabling you to keep the regular creatures in line."

Master Daego rather liked this answer. "So we are representatives of your Gods?"

"Yes, but you give another name to the power they have granted you. You call if the Force."

The Jedi smiled. He had heard loads of religions trying to logically explain the presence of the Force in the galaxy and the power of the Jedi without sacrificing their credibility. But he had to admit the Mared religion did a very good job at it.

"And how do you explain the presence of the Sith, then?" Master Daego continued, not knowing why he was so determined to find a hole in the Mared's thinking.

"Just like Lai'k'tsant opposes Mae'r'falts, the Jedi need counterparts too. Jedi are the representatives of Mae'r'falts, protecting the life she has given us. Sith are the servants of Lai'k'tsant, seeking destruction."

"So, if you think Lai'k'tsant is not evil, you also think the Sith aren't evil?" the Weaponmaster asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well, they are evil to _us, _of course," he explained. "They are evil because they try to take away the most important gift we've ever received. But in the end, they do the work of the gods, yes."

"Then why oppose them? If you oppose them, don't you oppose the gods as well? Doesn't that upset them?"

"No, not at all," the Mared replied, growing more enthusiastic as the conversation grew. "I told you we try to appease Lai'k'tsant, right? What he values most, is courage, strength and skill. Therefore he created the Sith: ruthless, brave, powerful. If we can successfully oppose them, we are worthy of living on and he doesn't take us."

"But the Sith haven't always been here. They've only been here for a week at most."

"Yes, before the rule of risk applied. It all depends on the situation."

Master Daego sighed, with a slight smile edging his lips. He could start bombing the Mared with facts and questions to prove the alien was wrong, but he had no desire to. He felt it firmly believed what it was saying. And it sounded quite logical, even to a Jedi.

"And what about the third God, Fyyl't'peña?" he continued.

"He controls our everyday actions, and our success at life. It is he who decided we are worthy for a long life by deciding how brave we are, how strong we are, and how many credits we will make."

"So you decide nothing for your own?" Master Daego asked. He found this last statement of the Mared somewhat disturbing. According to this Mared, they were simple toys of the Gods. That meant a certain kind of oppression, which gave their religious leaders more power than could be right for a democratic society.

"If it is the will of the Gods, then so be it," he simply concluded. "And even so, we can still shape our own events, determined by the qualities we possess. It's not like we're total puppets on a string, Master Jedi."

It didn't convince Master Daego. Not entirely. He had seen a lot of societies in his 'career' that were controlled by a group of religious fundamentalists, leading to dangerous situations. But that wasn't what this was about. He came here to tell them about his departure, and to see how they would take it.

"You know," he began, "I am thinking about heading East. Towards Sheleepolis. I need to find someone there."

The two guards looked at him with disbelief. Their eyes seemed to get even bigger, which was a ridiculous and funny sight to behold, as they had proportionally and relatively very large eyeballs. Master Daego didn't laugh of course, another benefit of Jedi training. The larger one of the guards, who had held his tongue during the entire conversation about the Mared religion, even pouted. It seemed as if he was told he couldn't have a sweet even though he had been a good boy all day long.

"Are you just leaving us, then?" the taller one asked.

"Looks like it, Mar'r'ka," the other Mared replied in the Jedi's stead.

"I do not want you to think I've grown tired of you or think you're not worthy of my attention," Daego quickly said. "It's just that I have lost a lot of time here already. Not that it wasn't worth it. I mean..." He tried explaining himself without hurting the feelings of the Mared. "I can help others, just like I have helped you. And all of you have benefited greatly from my aid. And now you have reached a situation where you can more or less live on without a constant threat above your head, I should seek people who need my help more than you guys do." Master Daego looked out of the window, and noticed the rain had stopped. He then looked back at the two aliens. "I hope you understand," he added.

"We understand, Master Jedi," Mar'r'ka said. "It's just that we're a bit scared. Not only the two of us, but the entire village. We don't know what to do. Don't forget we still have got loads of prisoners locked away in their own basements. What do we do with them? What if we are attacked by a group of Sith? Where do we get food? We've always relied on the Shelee before, who provided us with minimal wages for serving them, but at least it was enough to buy food and have a roof over our heads."

"You're almost sounding like you miss those times," the Jedi suggested.

"That's not what Mar'r'ka means," the smaller Mared replied. "All he's trying to say is that we're in a situation that is new to us. We have to take care of ourselves now, instead of grovelling at the feet of our masters. After the Shelee emancipation, our people has done nothing but serve another race. In some ways, we already were slaves long before they put us in cages. The only thing that was different was that we did not get paid."

"And don't forget the cages and the lack of food," Mar'r'ka added.

"Yeah, that too. You see, master Jedi, we Mared were a proud people once. Before the Shelee emancipation it was us giving out the orders. But it's so long ago, almost no Mared alive has been through all of that. The current generation is scared, afraid and lacks dignity and self-esteem. Sure, there are some who managed to escape a life of poverty on Beneris, most of them by migrating to Coruscant or another important Republic planet. But most of us don't really know how to defend themselves from all... this. Lots of people believe Fyyl't'peña has stopped favouring our race. Do you know how it feels like to think that the Gods, those who made you, control you and will eventually take you, have abandoned you? Do you know what it feels like to be lost in a world you have no grip on? It is a nightmare, Master Jedi, plain and simple. And knowing that our souls will simply reincarnate and be thrown back into this mess depressed some of us even more. Not even suicide is a way of escaping the tragedy of daily life."

"You believe in reincarnation?" Master Daego asked. "I thought you said your lifegod, Mae'r'Falts, gives you life? Shouldn't that mean every single Mared just vanishes after he dies?"

"No, not at all," Mar'r'ka answered. "We believe there is a finite pool of souls. Every soul is granted a life, until death, upon which he must re-enter the pool. It were the divine trinity who created the souls. What happens from then on, Frr'a'cn has already explained to you."

"Indeed he has," the Weaponmaster replied, finally obtaining the name of the smaller Mared. He didn't know why he hadn't bothered to ask their names upon meeting them. But he had learned a lot about the culture of the Mared. More than the holovids in the Jedi Temple had shown him. He stood up. "Well, then I guess I'll just announce my leave to the rest of the village."

"May you continue to do Mae'r'falts' bidding, master Jedi," Frr'a'cn said, slightly bowing, with Mar'r'ka following his lead.

Master Daego nodded his head and put on a friendly smile. He walked over to the door, but felt a sudden urge to look back. He peered through the window, noticing a large, black mass on the horizon. He sensed something wasn't right. "Are there a lot of wild animals in these parts?" he asked without looking at the two guards.

"Hmm, no," Frr'a'cn replied, slightly puzzled by the nature of the Jedi's question. "Mostly birds, and some small colonies of moles perhaps, but that's it."

"Okay," Master Daego murmured. His heartbeat increased. "Sound the alarm."

"I beg your pardon?" Mar'r'ka asked.

"Sound the alarm! And do it quickly!" the Jedi tried to say as loud as possible without shouting.

"But... we don't have an alarm. Just these two pistols you gave us yesterday."

Master Daego sighed. Of course, he was used to being in more technologically advanced places like this. "Very well, then. I want the two of you to run inside your village, and scream as loud as possible to get everybody's attention. Tell everybody to go inside their basements and make sure they understand they are not to come out again until I personally come and get them. Understood?"

"Yes, but... What is the matter?" Mar'r'ka asked, afraid he knew the answer all too well.

"I think payback is headed our way."

_Just outside Iqukejab_

Now that the rain had stopped, Master Daego's robes were quickly drying. The sand underneath his feet was still muddy however, and every step he made produced a squishy sound. The sun shined brightly in his eyes, and he held up his hands to be able to see. Not that he needed his eyes to sense the three tanks and 40 soldiers the neighbouring towns had sent to destroy the village behind him. The tanks looked a lot like spiders. Giant three-legged metal spiders, with three cannons the size of Bantha-horns attached to their body. The soldiers were all Shelee. He stopped, his boots sinking up to his ankles. The small army was about 300 yards away, and the village was about half a mile behind his back. They approached him, and eventually stopped about 20 yards away from him. All soldiers pointed their guns at him, with the three walking tanks right behind them.

Master Daego wondered why they had stopped. He had expected they'd try to blast him to pieces the moment they saw him. His guess was that they were intimidated. A lone man, a human at that, not moving an inch while he was being approached by a battalion supported by heavy artillery was indeed quite odd. It was a clear indication of fearlessness, and one who didn't fear this kind of opposition had to be... special. That, and his Jedi robes of course, which gave away quite a lot as well.

"In the name of Zeborah and Mopaka," the Shelee in front of the pack, obviously their commander, said, "move out of our way, or we shall blast you to pieces."

He spoke in the dreadful, slithery language of the Shelee. This was a language he could not speak, only understand. He decided to answer them in the Mareddian tongue.

"Why are you targeting me? I am but an innocent, harmless traveller making my way East," he lied, deciding to toy with them for a while.

Obviously, they were surprised by his knowledge of the language of their arch-enemies, and the fact he used it. It was a sign of total defiance, and a great insult to these Shelee who considered themselves to be superior to the Mared-race ever since they had enslaved them with the help of Darth Genocid. The fact an alien addressed them in the language of their sworn enemies while he probably spoke loads of other languages as well, was something they couldn't bear.

"Do not speak to us in a language covered in dung, you filthy rodent," the Shelee commander said, his four lips sticking outwards in furious anger whilst fiercely dribbling. "If you are smart, you shall move out of our way, and be happy we had the decency to let you live, even after having shown great insult towards us noble Shelee."

Master Daego could barely suppress a grin. "Can't you just... you know, go around me?" he joked, not altering his speech.

"We move for no man, especially not if he's an alien that can't even speak our angelic language," the commander spat back. "This is your last warning!"

"You know, I'd like to move, but you see... I've got a nasty cramp in my toenails."

"I think you will forsake your gift of comedy as soon as you feel our bolts destroying you. Soldiers! Fi..."

Before he could finish his last words, Daego took the two lightsabres at his hips, each arm crossing his belly as he took one. Before igniting them, he rolled to the side while unleashing a powerful Force push towards the group of soldiers. The battalion fell apart. The soldiers in front of the pack, the commander among them, were blown off their feet, taking with them those in the rows behind them. It seemed like a human domino. Every soldiers fell to the ground. The tanks started shooting. Huge, purple globes of energy sprang out of their massive cannons, and Master Daego had to jump high into the air to avoid them. He jumped onto the tank nearest to him, which was easily 30 feet into the air. This prevented the other tanks from shooting at him, as they didn't want the thing to explode. On top of the round, central body was a lid. Master Daego easily yanked it open, and jumped inside. There were four Shelee inside: a navigator and three cannoneers. They were so surprised by this sudden break-in that they didn't have the time to react. The Jedi sliced all four of them down in a matter of seconds. He peered through the relatively small windows, and positioned himself behind one of the cannons. He released a shot towards one of the other tanks. It hit it right in the centre, causing it to explode. A huge fireball and large pieces of burning metal scattered, killing lots of soldiers in the progress. The third tank however, knew something was wrong, and it released three shots at the same time, all of them coming towards the tank of the Weaponmaster. Knowing even he could not survive an explosion like that, he quickly jumped through the opening in the ceiling with everything he had in him. It exploded right underneath him. He could feel the heat of the blast, and the fire caught up to him. It burnt his feet badly, and his brown Jedi robe caught fire. The flames spread quickly, and they started licking his shoulders. He got rid of the robe, which was reduced to some bits of burning thread. He stopped ascending, and fell down again, right through the thick cloud of poisonous black smoke the explosion had left behind. He tried not to breathe, but the bump as he hit the ground had such an impact on his lungs that he had to gasp for air. That, and the awful pain he felt in his scorched feet. He inhaled the fume, barely losing conscience in the process. He created a Force Whirlwind on pure instinct, the cloud quickly disappearing. But Master Daego was severely weakened. And there was still a tank and some twenty Shelee soldiers intent on taking his life. Now he had to show why he was a true Weaponmaster. Through the last remains of the smoke, he saw a group of soldiers that tried to find him. Audaciously, he force-jumped right into them, igniting his lightsabres as he flew. He caught them by surprise, and because he was in the centre of a group of enemies, the last remaining tank did not attempt to shoot him. When he landed, he stretched both his arms and spun around his axis, becoming a deadly whirlwind of bladed energy. Six of the soldiers were killed instantly, their throats cut open, their entrails exposed, or a clean cut from the waist up. The few that miraculously survived open fire. He deflected their shots with ease, sending each bolt back to the soldier that had shot it. The smoke was completely gone now, and Master Daego was completely exposed. The tank took another shot at him, but he dashed forward and avoided it completely. The blast did knock him off his feet however, and it left him vulnerable for another shot. Luckily for him, the tank moved slow, and the Shelee soldiers that were still alive were terrible shots. He tried to cover himself by yet again leaping into a group of adversaries. He succeeded, but this time they were ready. He managed to deflect most blasterfire, but he received one bolt in the leg. He stabbed the surviving soldier, not quite so vigorously as before, and turned his head to look around. He saw the tank about 50 yards away from him, its cannons faced towards the Jedi. Underneath the tank, the rest of the soldiers hid. About ten remained. He gripped one of them with the Force, and threw him into the others. He force-jumped towards them yet again, only this time much faster than before, even though he had a blasterwound in his leg. He managed to cut them all down before they got up, and underneath the tank he was safe from its fire. He held his left-hand lightsabre up. It touched the central sphere of the tank, and he formed a circle, creating a nice opening for him to jump through. With a force push, he blasted the armoured durasteel into the sphere and jumped through. He landed inside the cockpit and spread his legs as he landed, so that he didn't fall down the hole again. He force-gripped two of the cannoneers and smashed them into each others. Then, he gripped the navigator and the other cannoneer and did the same. The tank quickly lost its balance, and Master Daego abandoned the tank seconds before it crashed by leaving through the opening he had created. He was victorious, but he had paid his victory with great physical pain.

Now that he had a chance to overlook the massacre, the pains and strains of battle washed all over him. His leg felt like it was on fire, his feet seemed like they were reduced to charcoal, his shoulders were entirely blistered, and he fell into a coughing fit that lasted over two minutes. He fell to his knees, then laid down on his back. It was then that he decided to return to Iqukejab, and remain there for a couple of days longer.

_Coruscant, The Jedi Temple. Jedi Mess._

Zorn Quolyg-Naryn scooped a large portion of Iridonian beans in his plate, followed by a steak and a small bottle of ice cold Twi'Lek Tea.

"Seriously," Maela said, who was right behind him, " I don't know how you can eat that stuff. It's disgusting," she added, comparing it to her own plate that had chicken breast, lettuce and a glass of water.

"We Zabraks have a solid stomach," he explained, trying to excuse himself for his rather disgusting meal as they made their way towards a table. "Besides, these beans may look rancid, but they're incredibly good for your vision. You don't seriously think they'd serve unhealthy food in the Jedi Temple, do you?" he asked as they said themselves down.

"I don't know," Maela said. "I'd be stuck with intensive diarrhea if I ever ate that."

"Hmm, I like it when you talk dirty," Zorn joked, as he put a handful of beans in his mouth.

"Don't be ridiculous," Maela rebuked him. "And stop chomping like that, it sounds as if there's a horde of Bantha's at the table!"

"Hey, I can't help it if I have a healthy appetite," the Zabrak replied with a grin. "What you need is culinary refinement."

"What you need, is a couple of mutes when you're eating," she bit back.

"Says the girl who snores like a Gamorrean," Zorn laughed.

"I do not!" she cried embarrassed.

"Yes, you do. When we returned from the _Glory _you were snoring so loud I thought the hyperdrive was about to blow up."

"Shhh!" Maela hushed. "Watch what you're saying," she continued in a low voice. "We were never supposed to be there!"

"Indeed you weren't!" a voice from behind Zorn said. Maela's heart skipped a beat, but as soon as she recognised Zaeyn, she calmed down. The gigantic Zabrak sat himself down next to his brother, carrying a platter full of food. His lunch had the exact same composition as his little brother's. The chair almost collapsed under his enormous weight. "You should be more careful of what you say."

Zorn sighed, said, "What are you doing here, Zaeyn? Can't you go and molest someone else?"

"I could, but it wouldn't be as much fun," was the answer. "Besides, I needed to talk to you anyway..."

"Okay," the Padawan said with an annoyed tone, "out with it, then."

"Two things," Zaeyn began while putting a heap of beans in his mouth and happily chewing while he continued, "fiwst 'f all, Mast' Kwaenos infom'd me dat you will wet p'moted tomoww." He swallowed. "Then you'll finally be a Jedi Knight! Cool, huh?"

"Indeed," Zorn replied, though he didn't feel as much joy as he had always believed he would. Ever since he was a little Padawan he had looked forward to the moment he would become a true Jedi Knight. And although he was already a Jedi in being, it was always nice to see it confirmed and recognised by an official rank and title. He was proud of being granted this honour of course. But he didn't feel anything. No tingling sensation, no prickling joy, no big smile on the face. He suspected it was because he had never truly completed his trials. Zaeyn had completed them for him. And although what he and Maela did aboard the Glory was worthy of a Jedi Master, it all seemed shady. He realised it was too late to turn back, but he couldn't bear the thought of having to live with this kind of lie for the rest of his life. And the fact it was his big brother that had put him in this situation only added to the frustration. He knew all too well Zaeyn had the best intentions and that he genuinely cared for him, but it seemed so typical of him and so contradictory with the Jedi Code. Everything Zaeyn did seemed so un-Jedi like, yet the Masters themselves would lick his heels in awe. And although Zorn realised his brother controlled a power greater than he could fathom, he felt the Masters feared him instead of respected him. Keeping him, training him, encouraging him was all part of their instinct for survival. For if Zaeyn would ever walk the path of the Dark Side, Zorn was certain he could wipe out the entire Council. And that was something he feared as well. He thought of Zaeyn as too emotional, too reckless, too violent; all qualities that had dark tendencies. Yet Zaeyn himself despised and criticised those qualities in others. The hypocrisy in this had infuriated Zorn more than once. He had often thought about how the galaxy would look like if Zaeyn wasn't a Jedi. And it hadn't been happy thoughts. Just like he had caught himself imagining how a lightsabre duel between Zaeyn and Darth Genocid would be like. He definitely admired his brother's abilities. But he disliked his personality at times, and his sometimes blatant disregard for the Jedi Code. To be a part of counterfeit Jedi trials, something that went against everything the Jedi-concept of purity and valour stood for, was something that didn't sit well with him.

"So," Zorn said, "then we'll finally be equals, huh, Maela? Two knights."

"Three knights," Maela added, nodding towards Zaeyn. "And besides, we've always been equals. Every Jedi is equal to one another, whether he's a Padawan, apprentice, Knight or Master."

"Don't think so," Zaeyn replied.

"What?" Maela asked, slightly confused. What do you mean?"

"Think about it," Zaeyn continued, "if you had a young Padawan and someone like, say… Master Kae in a Force Chamber _and_ you had to electrocute one of them so that the other might live. Who would you pick?"

"I, erm. I don't know," Maela hesitantly said.

"Of course you do," Zaeyn replied, slightly grinning, "you'd save Master Kae. Because she's much more powerful and much more useful to you. We're all selfish hypocrites inside, Maela."

"Yeah, and you're living proof of it," Zorn said. "Besides, it's a ridiculous example. First of all: Master Kae would never be captured. Secondly, she would gladly give her life for that Padawan. And…"

"Possibly," Zaeyn answered, "but you have to know two things: she is not invincible and she does not hold the power to execute on of them."

"Yes, yes, we understand your point," Maela intervened, sensing the two brothers were about to argue again.

"But it'd take a truly powerful Sith to capture and imprison Master Kae, though," Zorn added, ignoring Maela's attempt at restoring peace and quiet.

"I know a lot of people who could do such a thing," Zaeyn replied. "Genocid, Prime, Jannays, Dorma, Daego,…"

"Okay, now you're going insane. First of all, it's _Master_ Daego and him and Jaxxon aren't Sith Lords."

"Well, first of all, one of them was and who says only a Sith can defeat a Jedi? Other Jedi could, too…"

"GUYS!" Maela shouted. "Haven't you noticed this discussion is totally beside the point now!? Look at the two of you, you're like two babies crying over a Blob Candy! I mean, you should listen to yourselves! You start talking about things that aren't even relevant because they're never going to happen. You're both too damn proud to give the other an inch of breathing space, and... Ugh!" she let out, sounding a bit disgusted. Zaeyn and Zorn kept silent. They both stared at their laps and eventually resumed eating their meals. Maela also calmed down, and chewed on a bit of lettuce.

"There's, erm... Something else," Zaeyn said after a couple of minutes.

"What is it?" Maela asked with a sigh, hoping Zorn wouldn't use this to start fighting again.

"Master Kraenos said they're strongly considering me for promotion as well," he declared. He grinned faintly. "Become a Jedi Master."

"What?" Zorn sceptically said, to which Maela rolled her eyes. "Why? Why now of all times?"

"Well, because they thought my actions of the 'Glory' deserved a promotion. They were extremely impressed with the information I provided them with, and of course how I managed to escape the starship."

"Oh, that's just great," Zorn said, gritting his teeth. "We do all the hard work, and you get promoted to Jedi Master! Unbelievable."

"Yeah, well," his big brother replied, "I just thought you should know. And besides, it's not as if I don't deserve it," he added and he ate another mouthful of beans.

"Maybe," Zorn answered, "but if that's the reason they're initiating your promotion, then Maela should be promoted as well."

"Don't be ridiculous, Zorn," the female Knight said, "I haven't been a Knight for a year, and I'm way too young."

"Even I am almost too young to be even considered for promotion," Zaeyn agreed. "I'm only 26 years old, you know. I'll be one of the youngest Jedi Masters in galactic history at this age. And Maela's 4 years younger than me."

"What difference does age make?" Zorn complained, "I'm 20 years old, and I've been a Jedi for almost 19 years. That means I've got 19 years of experience."

"Were you that young when they took you?" Maela asked, slightly amazed.

"Yep," Zaeyn replied in his brother's stead, I was 7 years old when my master told me my little brother was being brought to the Academy. I was so excited back then, I still remember the feeling. I even remember the first time I saw you, Zorn. With your tiny headspikes that had barely sprouted. So cute!" he added with a wide grin. Zorn couldn't help but grin also.

"How old were you, then, Zaeyn? When the Jedi took you, I mean," Maela asked.

"'Bout the same age," Zaeyn answered. "How about you, Maela?"

"I was about four years old when they brought me to an Academy. I studies at Tython up until my eight birthday. Then Master Daego chose me as his Padawan and I moved to Coruscant. But I was older than you guys when I first became an apprentice."

"Zorn and I were very, very young when we first arrived," Zaeyn agreed. That also explains why we're two of the best Jedi around."

"We're not two of the best," Zorn brought in. "Far from it. Master Kraenos, Master Kae, Master Lumenos, Master Daego, Master Ahas, Master Masdet,... They're all extremely powerful."

"With all due respect to our Masters, Kraenos and Daego in particular, but I am at least their equal in skill and combat," Zaeyn said with a cocky expression. "It may sound arrogant, but it's true. That's why they're promoting me, you see? _Master Quolyg-Naryn_. Quite a mouthful, innit? Maybe Master Zaeyn would be better. And you, my dear baby brother, have more potential than you realise."

"Oh come on, I can't even hold a lightsabre properly."

"Your datapad is more deadly than any lightsabre," Zaeyn smiled. "You're the best pilot in the Republic. You have a very strong connection to the Force."

"It's true," Maela agreed, "you were able to sense Jaxxon's faded life-force all the way from Beneris. Even the Council couldn't distinguish it properly. You probably saved his life by doing so. Otherwise Master Daego would never have been granted permission to return there."

"What?" Zaeyn said, looking confused. "You convinced the Council to let Daego,... I mean, _Master_ Daego return to Beneris?"

"Erm, yeah," Zorn nodded.

"Hmm. That means they put a lot of faith in you, baby brother."

Suddenly, sprang to Maela's mind. "Hey, Zaeyn. You claimed to be the equal of Master Kraenos and Master Daego in skill and combat. How about... You know,... Jaxxon?"

"Dorma?" Zaeyn spat the name out, as if he had received a spurt of Sandman diarrhoea in his mouth. "Why'd you want to know?"

"Well, he's also very powerful... Isn't he?"

"I could slaughter him without even having to try," Zaeyn coldly said.

"You think so?" Maela asked, already regretting she mentioned Jaxxon's name.

"Definitely. I mean, he was defeated by Master Daego, by a bunch of Shelee and he collaborated out of fear for his new Master. Not exactly what I call a valorous warrior..."

"It wasn't fear that made Jaxxon join us, but enlightenment," Zorn said. "How many times have we had this discussion, Zaeyn? 50 times?"

"Possibly. Still, I could slice him in half if I wanted to."

Both Maela and Zorn sighed, and the three of them finished their meals in silence.

_Beneris, just outside of Sheleepolis_

"Stay together, guys," Jaxxon shouted so the entire group could hear him. They had been running for hours, first escaping the prison, then rushing through the streets of Sheleepolis, only avoiding capture and patrols thanks to Jaxxon's Force-sensitivity. He had guided them to the edge of the primary hostile territory and for the first time since Jaxxon had defeated the Shelee-guards, they could slow down a bit. The entire group was panting, except for the young Jedi, who, as the rest sat themselves down, was looking for someone.

"Kieran!" he shouted, "where are you?"

"Over here, rudeboi!" Kieran replied, holding up an extremely long arm so Jaxxon could spot him right away. He had carried Lara throughout the entire escape and now laid her down as softly as he could manage with his triple-jointed arms. "She be mad cold, ya kno'. Strong woman she is to be fightin' dem pain and bloodloss. Dese be some vex bloodclot injuries, seen?"

"Yeah…", Jaxxon said in return, wondering what Kieran had just said. "You know, I do understand Mareddian now, so you could just speak that if you want to," sincerely hoping he'd accept the proposal.

"Nah, star, me havin' great time wiv Basic and ting, sight? We 'ave to unite wiv dem Republic. One love and ting."

"If… you say so," the Padawan mumbled, and bent himself over Lara, carefully inspecting the extent of her injury. It was a gashing wound, but luckily not yet infected. It went deep, though, and she would be in a lot of pain if she hadn't been unconscious.

"Can I and I fix her up, ras?" Kieran asked.

"I don't know," Jaxxon truthfully replied. "I'm not exactly a very good healer. I know Jedi who could probably fix this in a couple of minutes, but... I can barely heal myself, let alone someone else. I couldn't properly fix my wound, so I've got this huge scar right now. It's strange, though..."

"Strange?"

"Yeah. See, Kieran, I used to be quite good at it, but then I had some sort of... alignment switch, you see?" the Padawan explained, not telling his friend he used to be a Sith. "And now I can't seem to properly heal myself or anyone else, while I am supposed to be better at it now than I used to."

"The I don' understand, bredren," Kieran confessed. "Can ya heal her or not?"

"I told you," Jaxxon sighed, "I'm no healer! I will try to help her, but I'm not promising you anything."

"Then may Lai'k'tsant help her," Kieran mumbled.

"Wha?" Jaxxon asked confused, raising his eyebrows towards the Mared.

"Nuttin'," Kieran answered, shaking his head. "Mared religion an' ting."

"I see," Jaxxon said, turning his attention back to the fallen Twi'Lek. He softly stroked her wound with his index finger and focused. He could feel the corrupted energies and the life-force slipping out of the cut organs. But he couldn't manipulate them, let alone reverse them. And with every single second, he felt Lara become weaker and weaker. It was frustrating for Jaxxon: being able to see the cause and consequences of his friend's injuries, but not being able to do a damn thing about it. And he should be able to. He _should_ be. He was a Jedi. If he couldn't help a single woman from dying, then how could he help an entire race? He closed his eyes, concentrating deeper, trying to remember how he had healed people back when he was a Sith. And then, he was the soldier on The Brittanica again. He healed him from his wounds, so he could continue to torture him and extract information. He nearly saw it...

"All gwa'n well?" Kieran suddenly interrupted.

"You know," Jaxxon crossly replied, taken out of his focus, "it'd be much easier if you weren't poking your nose in my affairs every single damn second, Kieran! I ain't no fucking healer, it takes a while, got that? Now leave me alone for a moment, damn it!"

Kieran remained silent, and held both his hands in the air, slowly backing away. He seemed quite surprised by this aggressive outburst, but Jaxxon was too occupied to notice or care. He laid his hand over Lara's wound again, but couldn't retrieve the necessary focus, no matter how hard he tried. "Damn it!" Jaxxon shouted, slamming his hands into the ground. "Why!!??" The Padawan felt a tear forming in the corner of his left eye, and added with a whisper, "Why can't I save you, Lara? There has to be some way..." He bit his lower lip, thinking about alternative medicine; but to no avail, he couldn't think of anything else that could help his friend.

"Lara," he said, bending over her so he could whisper in her ear, "I don't know if you can hear me, but... I'm not sure whether you're going to make it through the night or not. I've done everything I can, and I'd gladly sacrifice myself to save you, but..."

And then suddenly, the young Jedi knew what he had to do. "Hang on a second... Maybe I can!" He remembered an old technique he had once learned from Darth Morlan when he was just a little boy. A variation of the Death Field-technique.

"_When commanding an army,"_ the old Dark Lord of the Sith had taught his apprentice, _"you can rip the life-force from the opposing party, and insert it into those under your command."_ It was a very advanced dark-side technique, but Jaxxon had pulled it off nonetheless, albeit in smaller quantities than entire armies. It was a long time since he had done it, but he was certain he could pull it off right now. The only problem was that he couldn't sacrifice anyone else right now, so he needed to rip his own life-energy out. And that could become quite painful. And dangerous. But he had to try. He had to do this, to prove he could save both individuals and entire populations. It was a self-imposed test of which the outcome could have extremely fatal or extremely rewarding results.

"Here we go," he murmured and he placed one hand on his chest. A red glow emanated from his hand and it soon evolved to a maroon spark. Jaxxon became instantly light-headed, but kept going, draining the life out of himself. And when he thought he couldn't take any more, he directed his hand towards the blue Twi'lek. It hit her right in the chest, and as Jaxxon heard the high shrieks of a woman feeling pure life shot into her, all became black in front of him.

_Next chapter: Kieran becomes the new leader of the group of Mared and is instantly burdened with problems both menial and serious. In the mean time, Master Daego is nursed back to health by a group of willing Mareddian girls and the Quolyg-Naryn brothers are both promoted._


End file.
